Adam's Revenge
by LiveInTheSunshine
Summary: Marie Milligan returns home from Florida after just escaping the hunter life. She at least expects a somewhat happy reunion with her estranged family. What she didn't expect was the death of her brother and mother or the discovery of two half-brothers. The thorns of vengeance cut deep within family when someone from Marie, Dean, and Sam's past comes back in order to exact revenge.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic, so please go easy on me:) I wanted to try something new so here I am. This fanfic will take place during season 7 of Supernatural though the plot line and my O.C. Marie are completely mine. This will be an AU, but  
will contain certain elements that appear in season 7 such as Sam's hallucinations and other things.

I do not own anything of Supernatural; it all belongs to its creators.

\- Also, this story can be located on Wattpad. I hope you enjoy!

-Sorry in advance if the words are all glitchy and jumbled together; I'm trying to figure out how to fix that.

Chapter 1: Mistakes

•~Marie~•

I couldn't hold back the tears as I gazed at my old family home in Minnesota from within my old beat up truck. I glanced down at the news article on my phone and couldn't stop the sobbing that followed. The house was the final nail in the coffin. My family  
was dead.

Once I got my breathing under control, I wiped my eyes under my glasses and I looked again at my phone. I had gone to the hospital where my mother worked to surprise her only to find that she apparently died two and a half years ago.

Now, the news of her death was staring up at me through the cracked screen. I couldn't believe what I had found out from my mother's co-workers and decided to research her death myself. The article said that not only my mother had died, but also my twin  
brother. It revealed that they were ripped apart by some kind of wild animal and drug somewhere within the bowels of the house. However, the police could never find their bodies. And according to the article, they don't really believe in what they  
told the public.

Even now there was faded caution tape surrounding the house as if the cops couldn't quite let go of their failed attempt to really find out what happened. As if they were still investigating what might have been their most puzzling double homicide ever.  
But I had an idea of what had really happened to my family.

I stepped out of my truck and made my way up to the house. Just walking to the front door brought on a wave of memories that I had found comfort in while I was down in Florida. Now they seemed to only haunt me with every further step I took. I saw my  
brother and me running through the autumn leaves and climbing the ginormous tree in our front yard. I watched from the sidewalk as my mother threw a ball to our little Jack Russell named Mickey. I pushed the memories aside, afraid of what else they  
might bring.

Though, try as I might, I couldn't stop the wave of guilt and regret that threatened to choke me. I should have never left my family in the first place nearly three years ago. I chased a dream to Florida because I was stupid and reckless and ended up  
getting myself into all kinds of crap just because I wanted to follow in my "father's" footsteps. I admired and got along with him more than I ever have with my mom and he wasn't even around that much to begin with. Just showed up every once and awhile  
to take my brother and me to a baseball game or give us a ride in his awesome car. He was the coolest person I knew, and when I discovered that what he did for a living was hunt monsters, that's when I decided in my heart that was what I wanted to  
be.

Once I reached the front door of the house, I resisted the urge to knock. I slowly opened the door that creaked like it was nobody's business and smelled the musty scent that wafted through the entire house. I explored my home to find that many  
things were exactly like when I had left three years ago, although, I could make out some dishevelment in the furniture. I quickly took the stairs up to my family's bedrooms and the first one I checked was my own. Everything was the same, possibly  
even a little neater than when I left it. Mom had always liked to keep a perfectly clean house.

The next room I explored was my brother's. His room was a little messier than mine. Another wave of guilt and sadness coursed through me. How could I have left him, especially when he begged me to stay? I looked at his picture frames he kept around  
his T.V. Several of them were with just me and my mom and him, though I spotted two with just him and me with our father. One was of us at a baseball game and the other was a picture of us hunting in a prairie somewhere. I couldn't help but smile  
slightly. The word "hunting" had an entirely different meaning in my book now.

My mother's room was the one I dreaded going into the most. She was partly the reason why I left in the first place. I examined her room more closely and what I found caused me to stumble over to a chair in the corner and put my head in my hands. The  
reason I decided to investigate my house was because I just couldn't believe my family was actually dead until I had seen it with my own eyes. Now what I saw were fingernail marks running underneath my mother's bed as if she was drug under by something  
with an immense amount of strength. I stared at the markings as if they were the only thing present in my own little world.

Because of a falling out with my mother and because I didn't want to drag my family into it and knowing my father would never let me come with him, I left my family when my brother, Adam, and I just turned nineteen to become a hunter. I found out Florida  
was the place with the most supernatural incidents (go figure) and I decided to make a name for myself there. Once I got caught up in the unnatural happenings in Florida, I never had the chance to make it back home until now. And now that I did, I  
discovered my family was ripped apart by some kind of sick monster.

There was only one person I knew of that could help me in this situation. I took out my phone and dialed my father's number that I hoped would still work. It rang five times before a gruff voice answered,

"Hello?"

I waited a couple seconds before I responded, trying to get my emotions under control, "Hi, i-is this by any chance John Winchester I am speaking to?"

"Who's asking?" The other voice grumbled. I could hear the familiar sound of a certain engine in the background.

"Um, I'm his daughter, Marie Milligan-" I started.

"Look," the other voice began angrily, "I don't know who you really are or what kind of game you're playing but I've been down this road before and I ain't buying what you're selling, so don't call this number again if you know what's good for you."

"Wait-" I began but the other line went dead. That S.O.B just hung up on me.

I waited a few minutes before I dialed again, trying to calm my anger. Whoever answered was not John, but I had an idea of who it was. It took only one ring for him to answer this time around.

"What did I say-" He began but this time I was the one who cut him off.

"No, first you listen to me! My name is Marie Milligan and John Winchester is my father and I'm pretty sure you are one of my half-brothers he told me about. Unless I am mistaken and you are not his son?"

I said this all very quickly before he could cut me off again. I couldn't stop some of the anger and confusion that slipped through my tone when I spoke.

There was a brief pause before the other voice spoke again, "Alright, I'm listening."

I knew he knew something about the death of my family because he said he had been down that road before when I mentioned who I was. But who I really needed to talk to was my dad.

"Look, this has something to do with my family, can you just give the phone to John? I'd rather take this up with him."

"He's... not around. Whatever you have to say you can say it to me. Me and him are in the same line of business."

I sensed him hesitate mentioning my- I mean our- father. It made me wonder where John really was. I haven't seen him in years.

"Can we just meet somewhere? I know you know something about the death of my brother and mother. I would feel much more comfortable speaking about this face to face."

I heard the other line being muffled while it seemed like my half brother argued with someone else. Dad did say he had two other sons. Finally, the conversation on the other end stopped and the other voice addressed me once again.

"Alright fine. You said your last name is Milligan right, so that makes you Adam's sister. I assume you're in Windom, Minnesota? Luckily we're in the area, just a couple hours out...working. Is there a place you were lookin' to meet up at?"

I thought for a moment and then said hesitantly, "Yeah, there's a big park called Yellow Tree just fifteen minutes south of my family's old house, I'll meet you there?"

"Yeah, we'll be there soon, and you better be telling the truth about all this or so help me you are not gonna be happy when we're finished."

He hung up. I swallowed my new found anxiety as I reminded myself that I was finally going to get the truth behind my family's death, not the lies told through the news article that I knew weren't true.

I also realized that I was about to meet the only family I had left.

A/N: please let me know what you thought about this chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Once again I apologize if the text is jumbled up or there are awkward indentions. I'm publishing this through the app and there appears to be some glitches.

Chapter 2: Trust Issues

•~Marie~•

I put my phone away and started pacing around the room. I knew for a fact that my so called half -brothers weren't going to trust me at first sight. I wouldn't, with the life I've been living these past two and a half years and especially with the sour  
note we left off with on the phone. Being paranoid and suspicious 24/7 kind of came with the hunter life.

I knew these guys were hunters because my father told me as much. He didn't try to keep his other sons from the life like he tried with me and Adam. I still didn't know the story of how John had gotten into hunting in the first place. Maybe it was something  
I could figure out from my half brothers I was hopefully about to meet.

I left my mother's room and made my way to the bathroom. Before I could reach it, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror.

I looked like a mess. My green eyes were swollen and my face was red from crying. I removed my glasses in order to wipe my eyes with my sleeve. My hair looked like a blonde bird's nest from practically living in my car from the trek from Florida to Minnesota.  
I tried to use my fingers as a painful comb, but to no avail. The end result was my eyes watering even more.

As I continued to look into the mirror, I was painfully reminded of my twin brother. We looked practically identical, except for the whole boy/girl thing and he had blue eyes instead of green.

After my little pity party with the mirror, I made my way into the bathroom. The man on the phone said that he would be at Yellow Tree Park within two hours so that gave me plenty of time to wash up and get something to eat.

Thank God the water still worked in the bathroom that connected to my bedroom. I washed my face and used a comb I found in the medicine cabinet to tame my unruly hair. I would have to look for a motel to check into later. There was no way I was staying  
in the house where my family died, and here I thought I was done with the grimy, cheap motel rooms.

After I finished washing up, I ate at a café by the name of Cousin Oliver's. It used to be my family's favorite place to eat. It wasn't fancy or anything, just a family owned food joint that sold really good burgers and salads.

Once I had finished my salad I ordered, I finally made my way to the park. It was a beautiful evening, my favorite time of day was right before the sun went down. When I pulled into a parking space, I realized my gas tank was empty.

Great, I thought. I might have to ask for a ride or either call a tow truck.

I sat on one of the park benches that rested between the parking lot and the playground. I had a lot of good memories on that playground with my brother. Where I'm sitting now is where my mother would sit and watch us play for hours on her days off from  
the hospital, and it was from this vantage point that I examined the different cars coming and going. I knew what car I was looking for; the unmistakable sound of the Impala's engine had been detectable when I was on the phone with my half-brother.

I bounced my knee up and down in agitation. I hoped they could help me. I hoped they could tell me what happened to my family.

Another fifteen minutes of car gazing went by and all I've witnessed was a man who forgot he had set his coffee on top of his car and drove off, and a little girl who started bawling her eyes out when she dropped her hot dog in the parking lot. There  
was no '67 Chevy Impala in sight. The time wore on until I began to believe that my half-brothers weren't coming.

As soon as I stood up to leave, I heard the engine. I forced back the memories that came with that sound and gazed into the parking lot to see that the Impala had just pulled into one of the parking spaces.

I waited as two men stepped out of the car. I watched them look around until they spotted me walking towards them. One was abnormally tall with longish brown hair and the other was shorter with slightly lighter colored hair.

The shorter of the two regarded me more suspiciously than the other, and as soon as he began to speak I realized he was the one who I spoke with on the phone.

"You Marie?" He asked.

"Yeah, Marie Milligan, Adam's sister," I responded. I watched them carefully as they traded glances. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the abnormally tall man pressed his thumb into his palm.

"Oh, is that so?" The short one asked, slightly sarcastic.

I narrowed my eyes at him while the tall one glanced at his brother before he spoke.

"How do we know we can believe you?" He said. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"What makes you think you can't trust me?" I countered, thinking we could bypass all the silver knives and holy water.

"We've been duped once on account of something pretending to be your brother who really wasn't. And like I said, we ain't looking to go down that road again," the shorter man explained and I detected a slight amount of guilt within his tone. That raised  
some serious questions in my mind and he looked as if he regretted what he just said. Too much information, I assume.

I would've asked of their names but I got the impression I wasn't gonna get jack squat until they trusted me completely, and that meant testing. Great.

"Fine. Bring on the silver knives and holy water," I grumbled.

"Wait, you mean you're a hunter?" Asked the tall one.

"Well yeah, why did you think I called John in the first place? If I didn't know about what goes bump in the night, I would have just swallowed what the news stories said about my family's death."

"Huh, that's a curve ball. Alright, well, come around the back of the car and get these tests over with. I got a feeling you can be trusted, but just to be safe."

The tall brother turned towards the back of the Impala and the other one waited for me to pass him before he followed, probably making sure I didn't try anything.

When the trunk was opened it was a slightly familiar sight, although relatively messier. I remembered the first and last time my father showed me his arsenal, it was mostly just to keep me from hounding him about the supernatural.

"Hold out your arm," the short haired one ordered. I did as I was instructed and he grabbed my hand somewhat roughly and poured holy water on the back of my arm. He regarded my expression carefully. I noticed the second brother carried a peculiar looking  
knife tight within his grip. Once they deemed my expression to show no amount of pain, he relaxed his grip on the knife and the shorter brother let go of my hand.

The next test was the silver knife. This was the part I was dreading. I would always hate knives after what happened to me in Florida.

The abnormally tall one traded out his intricate knife for one made out of silver and slowly approached me. He gently grabbed ahold of my arm and looked me in the eye.

"I'm going to go as shallow as I possibly can. Just know that if you're pretending to be something you're not, this knife has just been sharpened," he said in a very serious tone. How he managed to threaten me but look like a kicked puppy at the same  
time was beyond me.

"Gotcha," was all I could say in response. I kept my fear to a minimum as the knife moved across my skin, trailing a thin line of heat and blood behind it. But besides the slight pain, no sparks flew from the wound that would prove me to be anything other  
than human. The brothers physically relaxed.

"Do you trust me now?" I asked.

"So far, I guess. One thing I gotta ask though, how did you become a hunter when as far as we know, Dad never pulled Adam or his mother into the life?" The shorter one said- okay this was getting ridiculous, I needed to know their names.

"First tell me what to call you, I'm tired of referring to you as the shorter one and him-" I gestured toward the giant, "as the abnormally tall man."

The Abnormally Tall Man looked a little offended but his brother looked smug.

"I'm Dean," the shorter one said, "And this is Sam."

A/N: please comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Complications

•~Marie~•

"So, I guess we have a sister, Sammy. Who'd a thought?" Dean said a little reluctantly. I could still tell they didn't trust me completely. We sat at one of the picnic tables as the sun started to go down after I asked both of them to return the favor  
of the holy-water-silver-knife test with my own set of materials. Both of them checked out as fully human, obviously.

"I still can't wrap my head around Adam having a twin sister, I mean, he didn't mention you any of the times we were with him," Sam reflected.

I shifted my weight on the bench and crossed my arms on the table, contemplating the best way to go about speaking.

"My family and I left off on a bad note about three years ago. Me and my mom got in a big fight. She wanted me to stay home, go to medical school, but ever since I found out my da- our dad- was a hunter, that's all I wanted to be."

"And how is that decision working out for you?" Dean asked.

"I wish I could do anything to take it back."

Dean nodded knowingly, "Least you had the choice to be in the life. Though now that I think about it, maybe that's worse, knowing you were given the chance to choose differently. I can't say the job doesn't have it's perks though."

I couldn't agree more.

We were all silent for a moment, thinking about this insane life we were both voluntarily and involuntarily sucked into.

Then Sam asked, "And what about Adam, what was his place in all this, unless he didn't know?"

"He wasn't around for the argument I had with my mother and he never knew what our father did, or about our kind of hunting in general. He was only there to see me run out on my family, so I can imagine he was pretty pissed off at me."

The guilt and grief rose through my chest again and I forced myself to ask the question I had been holding back.

"So what happened to my mother and brother that got them both killed? I feel like there's much more to this than I thought."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, as if trying to decide how much to disclose at the moment. It was Sam who spoke first.

"Adam and your mother were killed by ghouls; I don't know if you know much about them but they can take the form of the people they kill as well as steal their memories. The ghoul that impersonated Adam baited us into thinking the real Adam needed help  
finding his mother-"

"Turns out the damn ghouls tricked us which nearly got us killed..." Dean began angrily, then stopped himself, "N-not that that's important, I mean obviously your family had it worse...I mean..." Dean looked to his brother for help, at a loss for words.

Sam obliged, "We're sorry for your loss, is what Dean is trying to say. Adam was a good kid, and I'm sure your mother was a good person. They didn't deserve what happened to them."

I looked Sam and Dean in the eyes and knew that they meant what they said, even if Dean had a little trouble getting his point across.

I sat back in silence and readjusted my glasses. I knew all about ghouls, I hunted a couple nasty ones down in Florida and I gotta say, they gave me the creeps. And to know that's how my family was killed...

"Thank you...um," I swallowed and looked down at my hands. I was silent for a while and I was thankful for the brothers giving me the opportunity to try and think of a way to change the subject for the time being. "So...where's John? I figured you'd tell  
him I called."

Turns out this subject was the exact opposite I wanted to deal with at the moment when Dean said, "Our father's dead. He died around six years ago. I'm sorry."

He was very curt with his response, as if it was more than just a painful subject to him.

"What... H-how..." I could barely get the words out.

"Demon got him, the one our family had been hunting since it killed our mom when were young," Sam revealed, gesturing toward him and Dean. I couldn't believe it, it was as if all my family members were slipping through my fingers like sand. I felt the  
sadness overcome me again.

"I'm sorry," I said. Both Dean and Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

Once again I searched for a way to change the subject, unable to bear another dose of bad news.

"What- what took you guys so long to get here? I was just about to leave when y'all pulled up." I knew they weren't telling the whole truth about my family, especially Adam, but I decided to let them off the hook...for now.

"We were on a case, and we hit a slight speed bump. The demon we've been hunting sent us on a goose chase. We thought we would've gotten it taken care of before we came here, but the trail went cold for the time being. We decided we'd take a break and  
answer your S.O.S to come here," Dean explained.

I realized that's what Dean must have been arguing about with Sam on the other end of the phone line when I first asked them to meet me at the park; whether they should up and leave their case in order to investigate a girl who claimed to be their half-sister,  
or stay and try and make the cold trail hot again.

Though it could have had something to do with their trust issues as well. Three guesses on who it was who didn't want to come.

"What's the demon been doing?" I ask curiously. I wanted to vent my anger about my family's death on something. Not to mention what happened to me in Florida...it was still hard to keep those particular memories at bay. A demon seemed like the perfect  
opportunity and let's face it: you could never really leave the life could you?

"Bastard's been possessing people, killing their loved ones. Their siblings mostly, unless others got in it's way," Dean growled.

"That's horrible...and strange, why is it just going after siblings? A demon's usual M.O. is basically killing anyone it can get close to without getting caught. This sounds more like a vengeful spirit in my book. You sure you're hunting a demon?"

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, yeah I'm pretty positive it's a demon we're hunting. Sam found sulfur at the crime scenes and everything. Isn't that right Sammy?"

Dean seemed highly amused at my under-estimating his knowledge of the supernatural. I had to remember that these guys have been in the life all their lives and I've been in it for a total of not even three years.

When Sam didn't answer, we both looked over at him. His eyes seemed to be fixed on a point just over my shoulder. The look on his face caused me to turn my head so fast I almost pulled a muscle, thinking there was some sort of horrible danger just behind  
me. But there was nothing there. I had only seen that much fear in someone's eyes once before...

"Sam...Sammy?" Dean tried to get his brother's attention by shaking his shoulder. He even resorted to waving his hand in front of his face but it was as if Sam was in his own little universe. His body became more rigid and he continued to gaze at the  
same spot while his breathing got quicker and his eyes began to water.

I could only watch as Dean tried to bring Sam back to reality, having no idea what was happening or how I could help.

"Listen, Sammy, whatever you're seeing isn't actually there, alright? Come on we've been through this, the scar thing remember?"  
I heard the panic in Dean's voice.

And just like that, as if 'scar' was some kind of magic word, Sam lifted his right hand and pressed his thumb into his left palm. Though it didn't seem to do much until he pressed so hard with his thumbnail that I was afraid he was going to break the  
skin.

He then blinked several times as if he were coming out of some kind of hellish trance.

"I'm good, I'm good. I-it worked." Sam rambled.

"You sure?" Dean looked skeptical.

Sam nodded and took a few short breathes then relaxed. When he removed his thumb from his left hand, I noticed a scar that looked like an upside down letter 'U'.

There was an extended silence and I couldn't believe it wasn't being filled up with the explanation of what the hell just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello! I just wanted to say thank you so much for the reviews; it means a lot to me! This chapter was one of my favorites to write. It was fun to write from Sam's point of view. I would love to know if I portrayed him well, so please feel free to let me know!**

Chapter 4: Decisions Decisions

•{SAM}•

I lowered my breathing to a steady pace as Marie looked between me and Dean incredulously. She wanted answers. But let's be honest, here and now was not the best time to explain the little psychotic break that I just experienced. It was a can of worms she didn't know she didn't want opened.

I could still see a glimpse of Hell spread out through the landscape of the park just behind Marie. It wasn't as bad as it was a minute ago, with just a few spare meat hooks and flayed souls and Lucifer swinging on the swing set having the time of his life.

"Is anyone going to explain what the hell is going on?" Marie asked impatiently.

She was definitely Adam's twin sister, that I knew for sure. She possessed the same temper that seemed to run in the family and she looked just like him except for the glasses and eye color.

"It is a long ugly-ass story that we'd rather not get into right now," Dean said tiredly and I nodded in agreement. I knew he was getting worn out from this, constantly having to bring be back from the edge.

"Well, I deserve some kind of explanation."

"It's just something that's happened to me awhile ago and it's left it's mark, but it's nothing I can't handle. Let's keep it there for now," I said, keeping it vague and trying not to show the truth behind the lie I just told, for both Dean and Marie's sake. No need to drag Marie into something that I know she would not want to be apart of and there was no need to make Dean more worried than he already was.

"Fine, I'll just pretend like it didn't happen," she said sarcastically. "When are you heading back to hunt that demon?"

"Right now actually," Dean stated, checking his watch. It was getting pretty dark out. "Sorry to cut our meet and greet short, but this demon is a nasty one and someone needs to put it down. Once again, we're sorry for the death of your family."

Dean got up to leave. I gave Marie a sympathetic smile before following suit.

"Feel free to call us, you know, if you ever run into trouble or need someone to talk to. We are your brothers after all, and we know what it's like to lose family," I said, and smiled as I wrote down mine and Dean's phone numbers on the back of a Gas 'N Sip receipt I had in my back pocket. She looked hesitant receiving the numbers from me, as if I was about to collapse into a fetal position and have a mental breakdown.

"I promise you I'm fine Marie; there's no need to worry about me," I reassured her, "Just take care of yourself."

And as if it were some kind of blessing, the remains of the hallucination that had been dividing my attention between reality and Hell disappeared for the moment. I stepped back with a sigh of relief.

"Alright...hey," Marie began like she just came up with an idea, "Why don't I come with you guys? I'm sure you could use some extra help."

"Thanks but no thanks, we've got enough on our plate as it is and people around us tend to end up hurt, or worse. No, it's best you stayed here," Dean answered as if that were that.

"Come on guys, I've been hunting for just about three years...and in Florida, no less! You know how weird things can get down there," she tried to retaliate.

Dean made a face and nodded as if in agreement, and I too contemplated the truth of her words. But Dean shook himself out of it, about to come up with another excuse as to why Marie couldn't hitch a ride with us to hunt this evil bastard down.

Before he could, I said to Marie, "Excuse us for a moment..."

And proceeded to yank Dean by the sleeve until we were out of ear shot.

Once we were far enough away, I was greeted by the look Dean got when he was forced to listen to what other people said for once.

"What Sam?"

"Dean, I think we should let Marie come with us. She shouldn't be left alone when she just found out her family died," I tried to reason with him.

"Are you kidding me? Marie coming with us is the exact opposite of what would be in her best interests. You know what happens when people get close to us and you know she should stay here," Dean protested. I hated it when he got this way, as if he were allergic to hearing other people's opinion.

"Do you honestly think she would be safe out there alone? Think about it, you sold your soul -damning yourself in the process- to bring me back to life the first time I died. And I remember how lost I felt when you'd died and gone to Hell, how self destructive and all around scary I became, trying to find a way to bring you back."

"What's your point, Sam? What does this have to do with her?" Dean asked impatiently, gesturing towards Marie who was watching a couple of kids swinging on the swing set. He was just not getting it was he?

"We both know where that ability to not give a damn about our own well being comes from when someone in our family is up the creek, and that's Dad. And I have a feeling he passed that trait to Adam and Marie-"

"What makes you say that?" Dean interjected.

"If you would let me finish," I said, annoyed, "Remember the deal the angels made with Adam? If he said yes to Michael, he'd be able to see his mother again. He knew what the risks of becoming Michael's vessel were and how many people would die if the prize fight between him and Lucifer went down, he didn't care."

Dean stared at me in silence for what felt like an eternity, then-"Fine, I guess you're right. She can come with us. But if this demon case gets too hairy, you're the one who has to tell her to go; I'm not having another death on my hands."

"I don't want that either, but she needs to come with us for her own sake...she's family."

That seemed to completely settle it for Dean. Jeez, I should have just started with that.

Before we turned back to Marie, Dean held up a hand, "How you doing by the way? I know it's been hard ever since Bobby's death, and I know you lied and said you were fine for Marie's sake, but do you still have most of your marbles jangling around up there?" Dean gesticulated toward my head, as if he couldn't find a better way to ask if Satan was still sitting shotgun in my mind.

Dean was right, Bobby's death has had an effect on my hallucinations. The grief and trauma that we went through caused them to be more prominent even if they were more off and on now. The good news was I was getting better at hiding them except for that minor insurgency of the devil trying to take over my head a few minutes ago.

"I'm fine Dean, I mean I still see things sometimes, obviously, but I think it's getting better. I'm managing it," I put as much truth behind my words as possible.

Dean nodded and we made our way back over to Marie who was absently picking at her nails. She looked up when she saw us approaching.

"You can come with us on one condition," Dean proposed, holding up a finger, "If this case becomes more than we bargained for you gotta go, no arguments. One of the only reasons I'm letting you come in the first place is because you have experience."

"I promise you, I can handle myself, but if that's what I have to agree on in order to tag along, fine. I've been dying to kill something evil ever since I got into town," Marie said determinedly.

"Yep we're definitely related," Dean and I commented at the same time. We glanced at each other and I narrowed my eyes; it was always freaky when we did that.

"And you two are definitely brothers," Marie retorted, looking at both of us and smiling slightly. "I guess I'll hitch a ride with y'all if that's okay? My truck is out of gas and I didn't even think about filling it up, with all the crap I've been dealing with lately."

Dean sighed, "Alright. Sam, go help her get her stuff while I start up the car."

I nodded and we split ways and me and Marie made the trek to her truck. It was an old rusty thing that hardly looked like it could travel another mile even with a full tank of gas. The paint job was an old faded blue that peeled off in layers to reveal the rust beneath.

"You traveled from Florida to Minnesota in this thing?"

I asked as she lifted up the trunk cover in order to reach in and lift out a duffel bag of what I assumed was her hunting supplies.

"Hey don't underestimate Linus. He's gotten me through some high speed chases," Marie said defensively.

I raised my hands slightly in surrender, contemplating how similar she and Dean actually were. I took the duffel bag from her and slung it over my shoulder with ease while she opened her truck door so that she could get her bag full of toiletries and clothes.

"Thanks for convincing your brother in letting me come along. I know how hard it is to trust someone when it comes to the hunting life," she said as we made our way back to the Impala where Dean was sitting in the driver's seat.

"No problem. you're family Marie, and I think we both know how hard that is to come by and how easy it is to lose. We gotta stick together."

Marie glanced up at me and gave me a small, devastated smile. It brought back a memory of something I said that I had long forgotten. I remember saying it about Adam, expressing to Dean in vexation about how jinxed our family really was:

He's a Winchester. He's already cursed.

Now, as I gave Marie a polite smile in return, I realized how my accusation was more true than I could've ever guessed. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Spare Time & Flashbacks

•~ **MARIE** ~•

Sam slid into the shotgun seat of the Impala while I climbed in the back. The car smelled exactly how I remembered it: leather and beer.

I was sorry to leave behind Linus but no matter how much I defended him to the other hunters who judged my truck, I knew he was on his last stretch and I doubted he would make it to wherever we were going. Not to mention I would have to deal with finding  
gas to fill him up.

"We should be getting to Birchville within the next two hours so I would make myself comfortable," Dean said to me as he backed out of the parking space.

"Okay."

I put my feet up on the seat so that I was sitting cross-legged. Dean looked at me through the rearview mirror with a glint of annoyance in his green eyes that I realized we shared.

"I said you should get comfortable, not get dirt all over the seat. If you're gonna sit like that, take off your shoes first," he grumbled.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

I gave an apologetic smile as I took off my dirty sneakers and placed them on my duffel bag that sat between the seats. It was in that moment that I realized Dean and I shared the same affinity for old cars.

We were all quiet as Dean got us on the highway, listening to "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who. It made me somewhat happy that my father's music tastes seemed to be passed to his sons. As the melody continued on, I let my eyes roam around the interior of  
the car. Everything was the same as it was from all the times Adam and I rode around in the Impala when John used to visit us; minus a few extra bumps and scratches that were no doubt due to the boys taking her out on many hunts after his death.

Then something caught my eye on the rear window deck of the car that made me smile sadly. Something that had been the subject of many games Adam and I used to play when on our way to baseball games with John.

"So whose plan was it to scratch their initials into the back of the car? I'm sure John wasn't happy about that," I said, staring at the carved letters. Just bringing up his name filled the car with an underlying sense of tension and sadness.

"Guilty," said Sam, and I looked at him in surprise.

"Wow really? I thought it would be Dean's idea, him being the older one and all."

"How do you know I'm the older one?" Dean griped.

"I can just tell."

I've always been an observant person and the way they interacted with each other made it pretty obvious who the eldest was.

Dean and Sam both squinted their eyes at me, but Dean answered my previous question without missing a beat, "Nope, it was all Sammy's idea, I just joined in on it after he didn't listen to me. It was his first attempt at rebellion against our dad actually...and  
then he went and blamed it on me." He briefly turned to Sam and said jokingly, "You always were a pain in the ass as a kid. You still are, but not as much."

Sam scoffed in disbelief, "Yeah right, you were the one who took the fall for me when Dad started raging about it. Don't act like I threw you under the bus."

"Yeah, whatever. All I know is that my ears were ringing for the better part of two days when he finished his rant."

"Huh," I muttered, it was odd to finally figure out the mystery behind the markings. "You know it's funny, me and Adam used to try and guess what S.W. and D.W. stood for when Dad used to visit and we would ride with him. We made it into a type of game.  
He never told us what it meant; he never even mentioned he had other children."

Sam turned around in his seat to look at me curiously with hazel eyes. He still looked exhausted but otherwise recovered from...whatever that was that happened to him earlier. "Yeah, Adam seemed pretty stunned when he found out he had half-brothers, and  
so were we. How did you know? I mean, how did you find out we existed? Dean said that you already knew who he was when you guys talked on the phone."

"I found out Dad was a hunter and had other children when I was fifteen. It happened in the way you'd expect- John coming in from a hunt bloodied and broken, and me, being in the right place at the wrong time-"

 _I sat on the tire swing that hung from our gigantic tree in the front yard. It was the middle of the night and my mom wasn't back yet from the hospital. Adam had fallen off a trampoline at his friend's house earlier and broke his arm. My mother drove him to the hospital and later called and said that he was going to be put into surgery and that she was going to swing by and pick me up before they put him under. He was always getting hurt doing stupid things._

 __

 _I was worried sick that something would happen to him while in surgery. My mother had always said that we worried about each other too much and that we were the closest that two siblings could get. We did almost everything together._

 __

 _As I continued to wait for my mother's minivan to come into view, I saw something else instead. The Impala sped down the street and practically ran over our mailbox. John Winchester, my father, stumbled out of the driver's seat and made his way into the house clutching his bleeding shoulder, completely ignoring me._

 __

 _What the hell? I thought._

 __

 _This was the second time this year John had visited us, which was unusual. Normally he only visited once a year. Not to mention that in this visit he was barely around, as if he had other business in town...some dangerous business maybe?_

 __

 _"John...John!" I yelled as I chased him into the house and into the bathroom. "What happened to you!?"_

 __

 _The stench of blood was a little overwhelming and I felt the nausea kick in at the sight of his injury. John leaned across the sink and pulled his duffel bag toward him. He opened it and fished out some gauze that he used to tie around his wounded arm which was bleeding profusely._

 __

 _Only when he finished his messy task did he look at me as if I just appeared out of thin air and asked, "Marie what are you doing here? I thought you would be with your mother at the hospital."_

 __

 _"She's coming by to pick me up. Speaking of hospitals, don't you think you need to pay a visit?" I said, gesturing toward his bleeding arm, "What happened? It looks like you were mauled by a bear!"_

 __

 _As John tried to come up with an answer and gain his bearings after losing what was with out a doubt a lot of blood, I couldn't stop my eyes from glancing into the dark green duffel bag that was left open on the counter. It's hard to name all the weird and creepy things that I saw, but some of the less disturbing items included knives, a jar of water with a cross in it, a container of salt, and some sort of herbs tied together with string._

 __

 _"I'm fine, Marie," he finally said, not really answering my question, "You weren't supposed to be here to see this."_

 __

 _Before he zipped up the duffel and glared at me I also caught a glimpse of a photograph of two young boys sleeping in a wide Lazy-Boy. One looked to be around the age of two and the other around six. The six year old had his arm around the younger one. I returned John's glare with one of my own._

 __

 _"I want some kind of explanation. Why are you all bloody? What is all that stuff in your bag? Who were those two boys in the picture?"_

 __

 _When I mentioned the photo he gave me a look as if I had just glimpsed something of him that he didn't want anyone to see._

 __

 _"You don't need to know. It has nothing to do with your life and it never will. Now just go back outside and wait for your mother to pick you up."_

 __

 _"No, I'm not leaving without getting some answers," I said defiantly._

 __

 _"Marie-" John warned._

 __

 _I brought out the big guns and exclaimed, "I'll tell Adam about all this if you don't tell me what happened."_

 __

 _John gave me a look that would have scared me if I hadn't ever seen the nicer side of him before. I crossed my arms and stuck out my hip like the petulant teenager I was. When my father's silence continued, I egged him on even further._

 __

 _"I swear I'll do it John; don't underestimate me."_

 __

 _John sighed in defeat and straightened up, adjusting his bandage around his arm. He forced his next words out like he was ripping off a band-aid: short, sweet, and to the point._

 __

 _"I wasn't mauled by a bear, I was attacked by what I've been hunting. And what I've been hunting is a demon."_

 __

 _"A demon? They don't exist," I said, skeptical._

 __

 _"Yes, they do, and so do all the other monsters that you've only been told about in stories..."_

 __

 _And from there he proceeded to tell me all about the creatures that go bump in the night, from monsters to demons to ghosts. I believed every word because he has been my role model ever since he popped into me and Adam's lives three years ago. Unlike Adam, who just barely got along with the guy. Once he had finished, I leaned against the bathroom wall realizing I lived in a completely different world than I did twenty minutes ago. There was still one question that I had though._

 __

 _"Were those your sons in the picture?"_

 __

 _"Yes," he said wearily._

 __

 _"You never told me you had other kids. How old are they?" I questioned. I wasn't really that mad. I mean what did I expect, that John revolve his whole life around a one night stand he had fifteen years ago? Then again, maybe my blind devotion to the man who claimed to be my father clouded my judgment._

 __

 _"One will be turning twenty-three soon and the other is twenty-six. look, I shouldn't be telling you any of this for the sake of your own safety. I raised them to be hunters and I would take that back if I could, but the best I can do now is keep you and Adam out of that life. Do not tell him anything of what we discussed here."_

 __

 _I heard Mom pull into the driveway, honking the horn to let me know she had arrived._

 __

 _"Go Marie, don't keep your mother waiting. She's worried sick about your brother. I'll be at the hospital as soon as I clean up this mess." John gestured to the blood that pooled slightly in the sink from his injury and the mud that he tracked through the house on his way in._

 __

 _I turned to leave but then stopped._

 __

 _"Don't worry Dad, I won't tell Adam anything."_

 __

 _John nodded and smiled gratefully but there was a glint of sadness in his eyes._

 __

 _That was the first time I called him anything other than John._

 __

• _~~•_


	6. 6 Chivalry and Retribution

Chapter 6

•~ **MARIE** ~•

That was the story I told them, well, a shortened version of it anyway. I still remember that night as clear as day. After all it was the night my life changed forever.

"So you blackmailed our father in order to get him to tell you about the supernatural? That's cold Marie," Dean commented once I had finished my story.

We were still in the Impala, going sixty-five down the highway and we had around forty-five minutes left until we reached our destination.

"Hey, I was a bratty teenager back in the day and don't act like you haven't blackmailed anyone before. You have been _hunting_ your whole life haven't you?"

"She's right Dean, blackmail or using some kind of leverage against monsters is pretty pare for the course," Sam contributed.

"Yeah against monsters maybe, not against your own blood," Dean protested.

"Look, the important thing is that I kept my promise, I never told Adam about what happened that night. But now that I think about it, maybe if I did he might have been somewhat prepared when the ghouls came knocking."

There was an awkward silence after I spoke as if they were holding out on telling me something. Dean glanced at Sam for a slightly prolonged moment which kind of made me nervous because he was the one driving. I noticed he tended to do that, take his  
eyes off the road and glance at Sam or look in the rearview mirror at me. You'd think that a man like Dean who loved his car so much wouldn't have the tendency to let his eyes wander. I guess that proves where his true priorities lie.

"Is there something else I should know about that involves what happened to my family?" I asked, getting my mind back on topic.

Sam looked slightly uncomfortable and Dean actually kept his eyes on the road for once.

"You're really gonna pretend like I'm not asking you guys a question?"

Still, they acted as if I had all but vanished off the face of the earth.

"Fine. Whatever, don't tell me anything. Just know that I'm not gonna forget and I'll just keep asking you."

I stared at the back of their heads until I finally sighed in defeat, knowing I wasn't going to get any information out of them at the moment.

"Wake me when we get there alright?" I said, yawning. "It feels like I haven't slept in days."

"I agree with you there," Sam said knowingly, before he could stop himself. He looked regretful of what he just confessed. I wondered if this had anything to do with what happened to him earlier at the park. I looked at him questioningly, curious to see  
if he would explain himself. He didn't, so I let it go.

I pulled my bag of clothes and other necessities up close to me so that I could use it as a pillow. I got as comfortable as I could on the hard leather seat before I removed my glasses and slipped them into their case. I then closed my eyes and tried  
to sleep. Emphasis on the word _tried_. I couldn't even get past the first layer of unconsciousness, let alone get the perfect cat nap that I wanted. My mind kept on wanting to stray towards memories I had of my family and my horrid experiences  
in Florida. Not to mention my half-brothers were talking again, probably thinking I was sound asleep.

"Why don't you get some shut-eye too? No need to keep me company, I won't get lonely," Dean said to Sam jokingly.

"Dean, I can barely sleep in a regular bed without Lucifer kicking me awake. What makes you think I'd be able to sleep in a jostling car?"

"Hey, just trying to help, man. When was the last time you got a good night sleep anyway?"

"Four days ago, I think. I'd get a good couple hours here and there but..." Sam trailed off.

As they both lapsed into silence, I thought about what had just been said. Did Sam just say Lucifer, as in the devil? Is that who he saw when he had what I can only assume was a psychotic break? I guess that explains why he looked so tired the first time  
I saw him.

What on earth is it that I stumbled into with these boys? 

* * *

Forty-five minutes later after many failed attempts at sleep, we arrived in Birchville. It was a quaint little town with many picturesque buildings and odd statues. I smiled a little when we passed a sculpture of a tiny horse sitting on its hind legs.  
Apparently, according to the plaque that sat in front of it, this town was known for miniature horse farms.

"Aw, it's so cute," I said affectionately. I have always had a thing for animals that were a lot smaller than they should be.

"No those things are evil, one bit me at a petting zoo once," Dean said, eyeing the statue once we stopped at a stoplight.

"To be fair Dean, you were the one who tried to ride it," Sam retorted while I laughed.

"Dude, I was nine! Plus it was one of the only times Dad ever took us anywhere like that and I'd be damned if I let that opportunity pass... I didn't know it wasn't allowed."

"How did you not know that riding an animal twice as small as you were wasn't allowed?" I asked.

Dean looked a little sheepish, "Whatever, just saying the world would be better off without so many of those miniature death machines roaming around."

Sam and I laughed as we pulled into the motel parking lot. It felt good to laugh, for awhile it had felt like I never would again. It was also nice learning the dynamic between the two brothers. Even though they came across as world-hardened and distrustful  
when I first met them, the light banter about miniature horses of all things showed me that they were brothers after all, and only human.

The motel that we arrived at didn't really match the rest of the town. While the town looked like it could have it's own page in a magazine, this building looked as if it were about to collapse. It had yellowing walls and a stained roof and it kind of  
sat by itself, as if the town was embarrassed that it even existed there at all. It was just like the type of motel I was used to.

I grabbed my stuff while we all exited the car and made our way to Sam and Dean's rented room. Once we got there, Dean slid out the key card from his back pocket and used it to open the door. The interior of the room was what you'd expect: two beds, a  
recliner, a small breakfast table, and mysteriously stained walls however; one wall was covered with newspaper clippings and pictures with red string connecting most of them.

"You and Sam can take the beds, I'll stick with the recliner," Dean stated, tossing his jacket over the chair.

"Are you sure? I'd be perfectly fine with taking the chair," I said.

Dean looked at me while Sam said, "There's no point in trying to change his mind. I would volunteer for the chair myself but I don't fit in those things." Sam narrowed his eyes at the Lazy-Boy as if it had done something to wrong him.

"Fine," I agreed reluctantly and I set my bags on one of the beds. I had a feeling it had something to do with Dean's own sense of pride and chivalry, not wanting a woman to sleep in a less desirable place when he could do something about it. It was weird;  
I didn't expect him to be much of the gentleman type.

After about a twenty minutes of washing up and settling into the room, I finally approached the wall with all the clippings and pictures.

"So, what we know so far about this demon is that it is supposedly only possessing people and killing their siblings, unless others got in its way. Is there anything else?"

"Just barely...apparently the son of a bitch likes to leave behind notes to the victims he's going to possess. Little warnings to let them know he's coming," Dean said with a sour tone in his voice.

"There's been three possessions so far and three deaths. All the possessed people reported having a note somehow put into their hands at some point before the demon got to them and made them murder their brother or sister," Sam explained, also coming  
over to look at the wall.

I looked at him uneasily, "what exactly did the notes say?"

"Something usually on the lines of 'you will get the retribution you deserve for what they've done to you,'" Sam said without looking at me.

"Well that's...disturbing. I assume 'they' are the siblings that were killed by their possessed brother or sister? That means this demon is thinking that some people want revenge against their sibling for some kind of wrong doing they've done to them,  
and thinks that he's helping them along."

"That's all we've figured out so far," Sam said.

"Still doesn't sound like a demon case in my opinion, but I guess if you've found sulfur at all the crime scenes it's gotta be. I say we hit the local hangouts, see if we can find potential victims that have received any odd notes recently," I declared.  
It felt good coming up with a plan of action.

"Sounds like a plan," Sam and Dean said, once again speaking at the same time. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my coat to leave.

* * *

 **A/N: please review and tell me what you thought!**


	7. 7 Anger Issues

Chapter 7

• **DEAN** •

What we soon found out about the town of Birchville was that they didn't do anything for fun. There was barely a dive bar in sight, or any type of hangout for that matter. Damn, what I wouldn't give to be able to hangout at a local rundown bar and drink  
a couple beers...or three...or four. I missed the days of the Roadhouse, where I could just sit back, get drunk, and not worry about who overheard me talking about ghosts or demons, since everyone there was a hunter anyway.

After riding around for what felt like an hour, we finally had to stop for gas. The night was cool and the moon shined brightly as I talked while I filled up Baby.

"Man, what is it with this town? It's like the fun was sucked right out of it, I mean, where else can you go to hangout on a Friday night besides a bar?" I paused and glanced at Sam, a thought occurring to me. "Dude, please don't tell me this is another  
'Whore of Babylon' thing. I am not in the mood to deal with a bunch of crazy towns people right now."

"The _what_ of Babylon?" Marie questioned.

My brother stepped out of the Impala and leaned on the hood with his hands folded on top of the car. Marie stationed herself in a similar position next to him.

"It's not important," Sam muttered, addressing Marie. Then he said to me, "there's no way it could be anything like that. That incident only happened because it was the Apocalypse and Lucifer walked the earth."

"Wait, wait, wait...the _Apocalypse_? When the hell did that happen?" Marie asked, stupefied. She lifted her hands off the car and stood back, crossing them.

I mentally berated Sam for bringing it up. This was not the proper time or location to bring up what could have been the end of the world, not to mention what actually happened to her brother. Then again it was I who brought up the whole 'Whore of Babylon'  
mishap in the first place.

"Like Sam said, it's not important. The Apocalypse has nothing to do with this sorry town or the demon we're hunting, so just forget it."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"No, I'm tired of all these secrets y'all are keeping from me. Is there a reason why you are both keeping me in the dark about what apparently was the Apocalypse and what actually happened to my family? Because I'm starting to get the idea that they're  
connected," she said, finally getting down to the bare root of it.

I decided to wrap up this argument before it went down a road me and Sam were not prepared to deal with at the moment.

"Remember all those natural disasters that happened two and a half years ago? Not really? Good, that's because we stopped them from getting a whole lot worse. Let's keep it at that. You're welcome."

"But-" Marie began.

"We are focusing on this demon, Marie. We'll explain what happened when we don't have other obligations. The truth will just get you distracted from hunting down and killing this evil bastard," Sam said with a look of determination. Marie glared between  
us as if she was pondering how we managed to get so douche-y within a matter of seconds. Eh, what can you do?

"Typical, leave it to hunters to keep secrets."

"You do realize-" Sam started.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm a hunter too. Look, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then ask the cashier where the locals go for fun. He's gotta know something."

And on that note she left us in order to go into the convenience store. Sam and I watched her go. It was still hard to wrap my head around having a half-sister; another sibling I needed to look out for. I didn't necessarily like keeping these secrets  
from her, but I didn't know how to go about telling her what she missed while she spent almost three years in Florida, or even how she'd react. Keeping her in the dark for a little while longer would also help keep her mind on track and out of harm's  
way.

"When are we going to tell her the whole truth Dean? It's getting ridiculous," Sam said, agitated.  
His thoughts must have been on the same track as mine.

"You said it yourself Sam, knowing the truth will just get her distracted. Not to mention, when she really finds out how Adam died and how I, -I mean we- didn't save him, she's not gonna trust us one bit. Even if we are technically her brothers."

I let my words hang in the air, it only now getting to me how much Adam has been duped on account of me and Sam only saving each other's asses. I couldn't help but feel guilty when it hit me like a semi that if I could go back in time to that fateful  
meeting with Death and have a choice again to either bring Sam or Adam's soul back from Hell, I'd choose Sam, everytime. There was never going to be anything that would change that. 

* * *

Never mind, this town did know how to have fun. The only down side to the bar that we stood in the doorway of was that it was called The Tiny Horse. This town just loved to bring back bad memories didn't it?

Marie had managed to get the location from the cashier who said it was where all the locals went in order to have good times. The bar was on the outskirts of civilization, as if it were hiding from the non-locals who would have expected it to be in the  
center of the town. No wonder we couldn't find it.

As we moved through the packed bar, I thought about the fact that this town seemed wary of strangers. I mean, first of all, you had the one and only motel seemingly separated from the rest of civilization, and second of all, the one single hangout appeared  
to be hidden from those who wouldn't realize where to look for it. But I guess that's what you get with small towns.

We decided not to come dressed as Feds, for obvious reasons. Wearing those monkey suites tended to draw the attention of some shady looks, not to mention it caused the majority of people to shut up like clams. No, we were dressed as regular denim-wearing  
civilians, with the exception of a few concealed weapons and our discreet fake Fed badges.

"Alright, we should split up. See if anyone got any creepy notes recently. You guys go in that direction," I suggested, gesturing toward the twenty or so tables that were full of people. "I got the bar," I said with a wink. I started to walk away, then  
Sam's voice made me stop in my tracks.

"You do realize we're here to investigate, not to drink."

I turned around to face the both of them. Sam was looking at me as if I were some child who needed reprimanding for taking all the free candy in the bowl at the front desk of a doctor's office. Marie was just staring at me blankly, waiting to see how  
the scene played out.

"Sam, I have never gotten drunk on the job," I said, a slight edge to my voice.

He raised his eyebrows the way he did when he didn't believe a word I was saying.

"You've had more than your fair share of alcohol on the job recently, Dean," he said.

I glanced at Marie, wishing she wasn't around to hear our little dispute and wishing Sam hadn't brought it up in the first place. It was true, ever since Bobby's death and Sam's hallucinations getting worse, I have been finding it harder to stay away  
from the bottle. Although I've never gotten drunk while directly on a hunt, I can't say that investigations that involved chatting up the locals within a bar like this one hasn't led to some excessive drinking. But I wasn't a damn alcoholic alright?

"Fine, I'll just order a beer in order to blend in. Weren't you gonna do the same? I mean isn't that what we always do?"

I would have drawn this little conversation out further but I just wanted it to be over, honestly.

"Yeah, yeah...good idea," Sam said, looking a little put off from me ending our almost-argument so quickly.

We all split ways after each of us ordered a drink. I still gravitated toward the bar, it being more my scene than the crowded tables or pool game area. The entire bar was classy, not like the normal dive bars me and Sam were used to frequenting. The  
lights were low and the steady thrum of a live band playing country music served as background noise to the tinkling of glasses and loud conversation.

The first person I decided to speak with on the subject of creepy-note-receiving was a beautiful woman by the name of Tanya. But after the initial breaking of the ice, I soon found out that she was an only child who had definitely not received any suspicious  
notes and she had a boyfriend who had to be around 6'6. He looked as if he could crush a tree with his bare hands. Not to mention he was the jealous type.

"Sorry to interrupt your wonderful evening together," I said once the guy threatened to put his foot in a place on my body I'd rather it not be. I grabbed my half empty beer and hightailed it out of there.

I looked around the bar once I was far enough away, trying to make eye contact with either Sam or Marie. I saw Sam at one of the tables, trying desperately to get information out of a drunk girl who was sending him all kinds of signals suggesting she'd  
rather be doing something else. By the time she tried to plant one on him, he'd all but given up, rising from his chair with his face as red as a tomato. He locked eyes with me before he tentatively moved on to a somewhat sober looking man over in  
the corner. I laughed my ass off, the look on his face was priceless.

 _Ah, Sammy_ , I thought, _when are you gonna learn to handle these golden opportunities?_

I checked out the drunk girl myself. She was hot, maybe I'd have better luck?

Before I could make my way over there, I caught a glimpse of Marie who didn't look like she was questioning the man she was speaking with but rather trying to make a quick escape. It was the same situation that Sam was in just now, though entirely different  
of course. For one thing, the son of a bitch had his hand clenched around Marie's forearm that was resting on the table. I saw her other hand reaching into her jacket pocket, which undoubtedly held a knife of some sort.

I hauled ass over there before either of them could make their full intentions come to light and cause a scene.

"Hey there sis, who's your friend?" I didn't try and hide the malice that dripped through my voice as I grabbed a chair from another table, spun it around and sat on it backwards; my arms crossed over the back of the seat.

"Just someone who claims to have received a note yesterday while out jogging," Marie said, a little shaken from my abrupt self-inclusion in their conversation.

"Oh really? Is that the reason for the tight grip you got there, man?" I said, gesturing toward his hand on Marie's arm.

The man released her arm and turned his attention on me. The glare he shot in my direction actually caused me to lean away, taken aback by the pure hatred and rage that covered his face. I saw one of his hands ball into a fist while the other hand slowly  
reached into his own inside jacket pocket.

"Don't do anything you're gonna regret, pal. I'm with the Feds and locking you up would be as easy as breathin' air," I warned as I flashed my fake identification badge, hoping to deter any of his ideas.

He barely scrutinized my badge, only giving it a glance before spitting out, "like hell you are."

"And what makes you say that?" I growled, my anger only rising.

Before he could answer, a hand dropped down on his shoulder. I looked up to see another man standing there.

"Excuse my brother, he can be a bit of a mean drunk sometimes," he said.

"Yeah, 'a bit,'" Marie mocked.

I looked between the two guys and could definitely see the family resemblance. Yep, looks like we finally had a lead on this demon case and it was 'bout time too. Time to get to work. 

* * *

**Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I gotta say, trying to write in Dean's tone of voice was very challenging. As we all know, he has a unique way of speaking and reacting to things;) I'd love to know if my interpretation of his personality was in character so please feel free to review and let me know!**

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 **I also wanted to add more personal conflicts from season 7 into Marie and the boys' lives so that's where the "almost-argument" about Dean's drinking came from. There will probably be more mentions of this in later chapters when circumstances get more dire, so be on the look out for that!**


	8. 8 Expect the Unexpected

• **DEAN** •

"So, what was the content of the note you were handed, James?" Sam inquired.

Once the question had been asked, James glared at Sam as if he had just killed his cat.

We all sat around the same table. I called Sam over once we made sure Short Fuse over here was telling the truth about getting a mysterious note handed to him. I eyed him and his brother, Robert, carefully. There was a definite age difference between  
the two with Robert being at least a good ten years senior to James and in his mid-thirties. Like I said before, I could also see the family resemblance. They both had black hair, tan complexions, and were both a bit vertically challenged. Robert  
seemed like a nice dude, the way he apologized for James's attitude. James on the other hand had some serious anger issues, and I didn't think they were a product of the alcohol like his brother had suggested. He didn't even look like he was the least  
bit hammered.

"Why don't you read it yourself," James uttered savagely in response to Sam's question and reached into his jacket pocket. I couldn't help myself but to also maneuver my hand so that it settled inside my own coat where my gun was tucked away. James noticed  
this little movement and gave me a smirk as he flipped out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and shoved it in Sam's direction.

"What, you don't trust me? You honestly think I would pull a weapon in a room full of witnesses? I'm not that idiotic. But you on the other hand..." James taunted while Sam read over the note. The way he said it gave me a feeling there were layers that  
ran a whole lot deeper than what he was letting on.

"James-" Robert started in exasperation.

"No, hang on," Marie held up a hand. "I really want to know what your problem is, James? We've done nothing to wrong you," She stated, her tone angry.

James laughed. Not in the way like he thought it was funny, but more in the way like he was resisting the urge to rip off our heads.

"Done nothing to wrong me?...If all three of you would just pull your heads out of your asses, you'd know exactly-"

"James _enough_. I have no idea what's gotten into you lately, but you haven't been acting like yourself," Robert interrupted. He then turned to the three of us and said sincerely, "I apologize for my brother's behavior, truly. Perhaps we should step  
outside to carry on our discussion? I think James needs to air out."

"And I don't think our topic of conversation is meant for outside ears," Sam added in apprehension, holding up the note and making eye contact with me and Marie. I glanced around and realized he was right, I didn't want our discussion to travel through  
the bar like a game of Telephone. Especially when we were trying to keep this case under wraps.

"Great idea," James said with an odd look in his eye.

We stood up and made our way to a side exit of the bar. While walking, Sam handed me the note that James had given him. As soon as we were outside in the putrid, darkly lit alley that ran beside the bar I read the note out loud, wanting to get down to  
business already.

"'James, you will receive the revenge you deserve for what Robert has done to you. Be prepared, I'm coming.'"

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought about the implications of the note. Then, with her voice on edge, Marie asked, "Who gave you the note James?"

"Just some jogging woman who crossed paths with me while I was out running," James said absently. His entire demeanor changed once we exited the bar as well. He appeared to be in deep thought; his shoulders relaxed and his face didn't hold the same scowl  
that had seemed permanently etched there.

Would it kill the douche to just pick an end to the emotional spectrum and stick with it?

"What did she look like?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know, like a jogging lady. I'm pretty sure it isn't hard to imagine what she looked like. Anymore questions? I'd like to get down to business-"

"What did you do to him, Robert?" I interjected on purpose, bringing up the note. James was really cutting into my nerves.

Robert peered at me with a look of pure guilt, an expression I was familiar with. He didn't look anywhere near opening up. This was going to take some persuading.

"Both of you do realize that people who end up with these notes tend to be turned into murderers that kill their own siblings right?"

"Yeah, Marie here told me as much," James put in.

"And you believed her?" Sam asked dubiously.

"This isn't our first encounter with demons, believe it or not," Robert said.

I raised my eyebrows. They didn't carry themselves like hunters, so it must have been a single isolated incident that introduced them to the jacked up world we live in. Oh well, I wasn't about to ask them their whole life story.

"Alright then, so you understand that your lives are at stake unless you help us help you. You can start by telling us what you did to James," I said, looking at Robert.

"I-I left him," he murmured, not making eye contact with anyone, especially James.

"Left him where exactly?" Marie asked after it was clear that Robert needed some prompting.

"I-In a car for two hours on accident, when I was sixteen and he was five. Thank The Lord it wasn't too hot that day or he would have died. Still, it didn't stop him from..." he faltered.

"Go ahead Robert, tell them what happened to me," James said bitterly. His anger issues seemed to be making a swift comeback from before.

"It didn't stop him from receiving kidney damage and having to be hospitalized for the rest of his childhood...b-but I swear it was an accident. I was a stupid, irresponsible teenager who was put in charge of my brother for a weekend when my parents took  
my sister to some prestigious volleyball camp a few states over. I picked him up from daycare on my way home from soccer practice. I don't know how I forgot about him, but I did, and by the time I remembered and went out to the car to get him, he  
was passed out in his car seat suffering from heat stroke."

We all stared at him. Marie had a look of horror on her face and Sam just stared at Robert disbelievingly. Even I couldn't decipher how in the holy hell you could forget you had a little brother you were in charge of taking care of.

"It was an accident I swear to God!" Robert repeated, taking in all of our expressions.

"Don't worry guys, he said it was an accident," James said in mock sweetness.

Then something happened that I should have seen coming.

James's eyes turned black.

Before we could fish out any sort of weapon, he raised his hand and Marie, Sam and I were propelled through the air. Sam and I hit a brick wall and were pinned there while Marie was thrown backwards against a dumpster. She let out a cry of agony and I  
could hear the pop resonating from her shoulder all the way from where I was pinned.

"Oh, you son of a bitch," I growled.

"Takes one to know one," the demon jeered while he approached Robert who was cowering against an opposite wall.

"What's the matter, Robert? You should be happy, you won't have to feel the guilt for what you did to James any longer. He'll finally get the revenge he deserves."

The demon shoved his hand inside his coat pocket, bringing out a long knife.

I cursed under by breath. How did we not realize James was possessed with the strange way he'd been acting and even Robert admitting he wasn't behaving like himself? I just assumed if the demon was already in him, he wouldn't wait around to kill off Robert.

I struggled against the force that was pinning me back and I could see Sam and Marie doing the same, but it was no use. We watched on helplessly as the demon grabbed onto Robert's shirt collar and pulled him close. I could hear his begging all the way  
from my vantage point.

"P-please...Jamie. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

But his pleading fell on deaf ears as the demon uttered, "Don't you get it? I'm not your brother."

The demon's eyes flashed a bluish-grey while he gripped his knife tight and slid it across Robert's throat. His neck became a red waterfall as he slumped over, dead. The demon wiped off the bloodied knife onto his sleeve with a look of disgust.

"No!" Yelled Marie, once again trying to break free from the hold the demon had on her. Her actions only managed to draw the attention of the demon and he started to make his way over to her. Was it just me or did it look like it recognized her?

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Sam demanded, most likely in an attempt to divert the demon's attention over to him rather than Marie.

"Now, that is an _excellent_ question. One, though I might add, I'd assumed you figured out by now-"

The asshat changed his course and approached Sam with a nasty look in his eye as he lifted up his still bloody knife. Before he could get close enough to my little brother I did the only thing I could think of.

 _"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica protestas-"_

The demon raised his hand toward my neck, closing my throat up as if an invisible hand were crushing it. I coughed, trying to clear my air ways, but it was no use. I couldn't breathe.

"That wouldn't work on me. Let's just say I'm not your average demon."

The force around my throat got stronger and I began to see black dots slowly but surely closing in on my vision.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, his voice distant. His tone then turned angry, "Let him go you bastard!"

There was a moment's silence as if the demon were debating on if he should kill me now or wait a little while longer. My vision got darker and darker, and I was only half conscious at this point.

"Sure," came the reply, and the invisible grip around my throat vanished. I coughed till I was blue in the face, blood pumping through my head. The black swirls that pervaded my eyesight now only occupied the outskirts of my vision.

"I wouldn't want Dean to miss out on this awesome bombshell I'm about to drop on you guys," the demon said.

"What are you talking about?" Sam questioned heatedly.

The demon looked very frustrated, "I'm talking about the fact that I set all of this up specifically for you! The mysterious case of siblings killing siblings because they wanted revenge. I set all this up to draw you both in, to lead you right to me  
and it worked. I knew both of you wouldn't be able to pass up this type of case. After all, how could a person be so savage as to kill their own brother?"

"I don't know how much clearer we can get asshat, we don't know what you're getting at," I croaked. My voice was not doing so hot.

The demon sighed in defeat and finally said the words that would be all of our undoing:

"No, I guess you wouldn't. I should have known this case wouldn't bring back old memories; I always was the brother who seemed to be forgotten. Even to the point where I was left in hell to rot for eternity. Not that I hold a grudge or anything."

 _Son of a bitch._

I stared at the demon in disbelief, finally realizing who it was. But it wasn't me who finally uttered what was on all our minds.

"Adam?" Marie said. 

* * *

**Sorry about the late update:( My weekend was so busy! So what did you think of this chapter? Adam has finally been introduced into the story! Yay! Or maybe not-yay? There are some bumpy roads up ahead for Marie and the Winchester brothers, and not to mention some MAJOR family drama. Truths and secrets will be revealed in the next couple of chapters so stay tuned!**


	9. 9 Family Reunion

•~ **MARIE** ~•

"Adam?" I said.

My head splintered with confusion just as much as my shoulder did with pain. This demon couldn't be Adam. Adam was killed by ghouls and there was no way he was sent to hell after he died. And even if he was, there was no way a someone could be turned  
that quickly; it could take hundreds of years. Though what other brother could the demon be talking about?

The demon looked over at me and his eyes flickered black. Wait...not black, but a dark bluish grey.

"Hello, Marie. I'm surprised to see you here, it's been awhile. Are you with our half-brothers because of some new Biblical prophecy that I haven't heard of yet? If so, I'd run sis, Sam and Dean have a tendency to only fight for and save themselves while  
leaving others to clean up their mess."

I looked over at Sam and Dean who were still pinned against the wall. Dean's face was still red from when the demon tried to choke him to death. They both held an expression of anger but underneath I saw their faces were laced with guilt, as if they believed  
in every word the demon said about them.

I glared back at the demon,  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but you are not Adam. You can't be."

Though I did start to have doubts. His facial expressions when he talked reminded me of my own. His familiar mannerisms that I have spent almost my whole life becoming accustomed to shone through the body that the demon was possessing.

"And what is your reason for thinking that?" He questioned.

"He was killed by ghouls along with our mother."

The demon laughed, as if I had just brought up a memory that was funny to him.

"Oh yeah! I _was_ killed by ghouls at some point. That's completely slipped my mind. So much has happened since then... But I'm not gonna get into all that right now. I'll let the guys here explain it later on," the demon said, gesturing toward Sam  
and Dean.

"It's true Marie, that is Adam. I don't know how or why he's here, but things did happen while you were in Florida. Things we should have told you about right off the bat," Sam said, glancing at Dean who was staring the demon down.

But I still couldn't believe it no matter how much the demon reminded me of my twin brother or what had happened while I was away.

"No, There's no way Adam died and went to hell! He didn't deserve that!" I yelled.

"Are you asking me to prove it? Is that what this boils down to?" The demon said angrily.

"Yes."

"Fine. Anything to get this conversation moving along."

The demon then began to recall the night I ran out on my family. He went on about how he had felt betrayed; not knowing where or why I was going. He explained that the reason he never contacted me while I was away was because he felt resentment towards  
me and he never quite got over it. He just wanted to forget I existed.

"You left me and our mother in order to chase some dream that you never bothered to tell us about. Now look at what's happened because you weren't around. We died, and you could have been there to help us not to!" He hissed.

I stared at who was once my brother in silence. I had no choice but to believe he was who he said he was. This was definitely Adam. I never told anyone about that night besides Sam and Dean. Tears filled my eyes to the point where I couldn't see even  
with my glasses on; the guilt and shame was eating me from the inside out.

Before I could even begin to apologize, Adam began to speak again and I had a feeling of what he was going to say.

"Where did you run off to that was so important anyway? I mean surely you had to have a good reason."

"I ran away to Florida to become a hunter...like Dad," I said hesitantly.

Many emotions crossed the face of the body Adam was possessing. It started off with shock that transformed into disbelief then moved on to out right anger. But even that slowly deteriorated into a terrifyingly calm mask.

"Now there's something I didn't see coming. And let me guess, that's why you and John were always so close right? You knew he was a hunter and you wanted to be just like him," Adam said, then he looked around at all three of us. "Well at least I know  
the mystery of what pulled all three of you together. Too bad I wasn't in on all the hunter shenanigans to get my family saved."

Once again I opened my mouth to start confessing my apologies but Sam beat me to it.

"Adam, we are so, so sorry that this has happened to you. We-"

"You have no right to say that to me. None of you!" Adam snapped.

"You're right. What happened to you was me and Sam's fault. We know that. But you need to leave Marie out of this. She has nothing to do with it," Dean tried to reason, finally joining in on the conversation. He said this as if it were a statement of  
fact, even though it couldn't be any further from the truth.

" 'Fraid I can't. I've got orders and she's apart of it now," Adam confessed.

"Orders from whom?" I asked, mystified. Instead of answering my question directly, he looked over at Sam.

"Let's just say that Michael and Lucifer send their regards, Sam. They've missed you."

"T-that's not possible," Sam stammered dubiously. He had a look in his eye that was hard to read. It appeared to be a mixture of both dread and disbelief.

"Oh but it is. They've given me 'orders' to go top side and make both you and Dean's lives a living hell. But let's face it; I would have done it even if I was ordered to or not."

Adam let out a small laugh and looked away from Sam. He glanced up at the night sky; his next words seemed to be directed at the moon.

"But something tells me one of you is still experiencing a little residue from their time down under. How's those hallucinations working out for you Sam?"

I looked over at my half-brother again with my brow creased in confusion. Was Adam hinting at the mental break I witnessed Sam have?

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam tried to lie.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. And I can tell you right now they are about to get a whole lot worse," Adam said menacingly.

We all glared at him, trying to figure out what he meant by his threat. Then Dean threatened in a loud outburst, "If you lay a hand on my brother I swear to God,-"

"Go right ahead knucklehead, but you seem to forget you're stuck to a wall. Besides, I'm out of here. Don't worry though; I'll be around. I want to draw out my orders as long as possible."

Adam then turned and faced directly towards me.

"Oh and Marie, just some friendly advice; I wouldn't trust these two. They seem to be focused on only saving each other, even at the expense of other family."

He stood back and started walking backwards down the alley toward the main road.

"See you around brothers and sister," he exclaimed sarcastically when he was far enough away.

What happened next was something all three of us have seen a countless number of times: The body that Adam was possessing, James, tilted his head up and a bluish grey smoke expelled itself through his mouth and flitted through the air to who knows where.  
James's body then tumbled to the ground; either dead or unconscious.

As soon as Adam was out of sight, Dean, Sam, and I were released from our pinned positions and were left to deal with the aftermath of what just happened.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for all the feedback to this story, it makes my day:D stay tuned!**


	10. 10 The Truth Comes Out

•~ **MARIE** ~•

We all stood in stunned silence in the alley just trying to grasp the complete and utter bombshell that had been dropped on us. There was not a sound to be heard except for distant traffic and the muffled bass of the music resonating through the bar's  
walls.

This silent reflection didn't last for long. As I stood there, the throbbing in my shoulder increasingly got worse until I couldn't help but lay my hand on my left shoulder, lean against the wall, and let out a painful groan. The adrenaline that had coursed  
through my body during our encounter with Adam had subdued some of the heat that now returned to spike through my shoulder.

"Marie, you okay?" asked Sam, his voice full of concern. Dean looked over at me as well.

"I'm just dandy," I grimaced as I pushed off the wall with my back and started to try and walk normally. However; when I tried to imitate my normal gait, extreme discomfort shot up my left arm and seemed to spread throughout my body. I stumbled and once  
again placed my hand over my shoulder, wincing in pain.

"No, you're not. Come here," Dean commanded and motioned with his hand. But instead of having to wait for me to reach him, he just walked over to me himself. He inspected my injury and diagnosed me with a dislocated shoulder.

Sam came over to supervise as Dean proceeded to place a hand on my shoulder and grab my left wrist with his other.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch," he confessed.

It did hurt extremely bad, but after getting my arm in the right position, my shoulder popped back into place and the pain all but disappeared.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come," Dean stated once I stepped back with a sigh of relief.

"Relax Dean, it's just a dislocated shoulder," I muttered, attempting to rotate my arm to get the kinks out of it.

"Yeah? Well, it could have been a whole lot worse."

"Hey, I'm not the only one who was injured. How's your wind pipe doing? Because it sounds like you just swallowed a frog."

Dean's face contorted into a slightly offended expression and he was about to come up with a retort, but a sound came from behind that made us turn around.

James had woken up. All three of us stared at him as he stood up and observed his surroundings. When he spotted his brother lying on the ground, he let out an inhuman noise and rushed to his side. His sobbing was audible even from where we stood; it was  
truly heartbreaking.

I slowly walked over to him with a heavy heart and but my hand on his back.

"What happened here wasn't your fault, James. It was Ad- I mean the demon's; though I have a feeling you know what he did to you?"

I still had trouble admitting to myself that the demon was actually Adam.

"It possessed me and forced me to kill my brother...I'm not stupid. I know what demons are."

"Yeah, Robert mentioned that. I'm very sorry about your brother. We did all that we could, but the demon was just too strong."

James picked up his head and wiped his eyes with his hand. The expression on his face was one that you become accustomed to when your job involves hunting the supernatural and comforting the victims of attacks such as these, and that is one of pure grief.

"Thank you, but I'd like for all of you to leave. I'm gonna call the cops and explain that I was on my way out of the bar and found my brother like this. I'll make it sound like he might've been mugged. You don't want to be around when they start searching  
the place."

I looked at him questioningly, curious to know how exactly he knew what to do after a situation like this. But instead of explaining, he held up the knife Adam used to kill Robert.

"You mind taking this knife with you though? It has my prints all over it."

I took the knife from him tentatively, while still regarding him with the same stare. He reminded me of someone I used to know down in Florida; someone I was hoping to forget.

Finally, in response to my silent question he said, "Our sister was killed by a demon and Robert and I learned the hard way not to go telling the truth about what _actually_ happened."

I nodded my head, "I understand. In these situations, it's better to lie than to tell the truth. Even if it is to the cops."

I patted his shoulder, turned my back, and started walking in the direction of Sam and Dean who were both quietly listening in on our conversation. Before I could make it all the way over there I heard James call my name. I turned back and he was standing  
over his dead brother with a look of severe determination.

"You're gonna hunt that son of a bitch down, right? Give him what he deserves?" He demanded.

I looked at him, unable to answer his question.

"We'll get him, don't worry," I assured vaguely, and resumed my walk towards the brothers. 

* * *

The ride back to the motel was awkward, to say the least. The Impala seemed to be filled with liquid tension, and with each breath it would feel like I was drowning in it.

These boys had some explaining to do.

We didn't talk the whole ride back, but as soon as we walked into the motel room I spun around and asked the question that plagued my mind the whole ride here.

"Why is my brother a demon?"

The brothers looked at each other and appeared to have a silent argument with only facial expressions. Dean didn't seem to want to answer my question while Sam did. In the end, it was Sam who won the dispute when a look crossed his face that could only  
be described as giving Dean puppy-dog eyes.

It occurred to me that Sam might have won a lot of arguments with that expression because Dean let out an exasperated sigh and turned towards me with a look of annoyance upon his face.

"We don't know for sure how Adam became a demon, but we know how he ended up in hell," he said.

"Please, do tell," I muttered, deeply irritated that they've kept this information from me for this long.

"Alright well, the first thing you need to know is that the Apocalypse was a serious problem and angels are real. They aren't feathery little cherubs that sit on clouds and play the harp either. In fact, we've come across plenty who are just plain dicks  
with wings."

Honestly, I would have been more surprised about the revelation that angels existed and that the Apocalypse was a thing if it had not been for the whole I-just-saw-my-brother-as-a-demon ordeal. Plus, I had heard rumors while in Florida that something  
earth shattering was occurring up North, but I brushed it off as the ramblings of a world-weary, windbag hunter.

"Okay, and what does this have to do with my brother?"

From then on, I had to sit down in the recliner to take in everything the two brothers had to reveal about what happened to Adam while I was away. I gotta say, some of the stuff that came out of the their mouths was hard to believe.

When they finished, we were all sitting down. I didn't move, but just sat there, thinking. I tried to wrap my head around all of the new information that was thrown my way. Once I recovered, I looked tiredly at my half-brothers.

"So let me get this straight," I pointed at Dean, "You were Michael's...vessel or whatever, but you didn't want to step up to the plate so he took Adam instead. How does that work?"

"Adam was still considered a candidate because he was still technically a brother to Sam, who was Lucifer's vessel. Michael and Lucifer are brothers, so their vessels had to mirror that. It wasn't ideal, but it met the criteria just enough to make it  
work."

"'As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth,' or something along those lines anyway," Sam added.

"I guess that explains why they didn't come after me. Sexist angels," I muttered, though I wasn't really complaining.

I was quiet for a moment, then I glanced over at Sam, "So you and Adam were thrown into hell after you sacrificed yourself in order to trap the devil back down under. That is until y'all's angel friend, Castiel, pulled only you back out. Is there any  
specific reason he couldn't bring back both of you?" It irked me that Adam seemed to be always left out of the equation.

"Cas wasn't even strong enough to pull me out of hell...at least not all of me."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't able to resurrect my soul along with my body. I was soulless for more than a year until Dean made a deal with Death and got him to dig it up."

 _A deal with Death...? Resurrecting a soul...?_

One thing I knew for sure was that Dean and Sam were way more emerged in hunting life than I ever was. I didn't even know souls existed or that death could be in a physical form.

"And this so called Death couldn't raise my brother?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably and Sam looked down at his hands. I had a feeling we were leaning towards a territory they didn't feel like getting into.

Well, too bad. I wanted to know what happened to my brother.

I cleared my throat and Dean looked up at me with a face full of guilt.

"I had a choice. Death said I could either bring Sam or Adam's soul back from hell, and I chose Sam's. But I would have brought back both in a heartbeat. You have to know that, Marie."

"Oh," was all I could say in response.

I did feel a little resentful, but I knew it was for an irrational reason. I mean, wouldn't I have done the same thing? As much as I hate to admit it, if I absolutely had to choose between saving someone I've grown up with and cared for and someone I  
barely knew, there would be no question as to whom I would pick. It was just the way things were.

"But both of you didn't give up did you? You kept on looking for ways to bring him back, right?"

Both Sam and Dean stared at me. The look that crossed both of their faces caused it to dawn on me that what Adam said about them could be true.

"You guys didn't even try did you? After Sam got his soul back, you moved on to bigger and better things."

"Marie, it wasn't like that-" Sam began.

"Well it sure seems like it," I stood up and my anger began to rise. Maybe I was being irrational, but I didn't care. I was sick of them keeping things from me. I felt a low rage bubbling up through my chest at the thought of how fast Dean and Sam left  
my brother behind in the dust.

"We were going to try, but different complications arose."

"What kind of 'complications' could have been worse than having a family member still stuck in hell...with _Michael_ and _Lucifer_ no less?"

"Listen-"

"No, I'm done listening. All I'm getting from this whole conversation is that Adam was used against his will and then forgotten."

"If you would just-" Dean started.

"Forget it. I'm going for a walk to clear my head. Don't wait up for me; God knows you both need the sleep with what's about to come knocking our way."

And with that, I grabbed my coat and slammed the door on my way out into the still clear night.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! I really wanted to get this posted yesterday, but thanks to Hurricane Matthew, my internet was knocked out and I didn't get it back untiltoday:( Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**


	11. 11 When It All Began

•~ **MARIE** ~•

Walking around the perimeter of the motel did little to clear my head. As I strolled around, I rubbed my eyes under my glasses. Thankfully, they were not broken during my quality time with the dumpster.

It wasn't until I arrived at the murky motel pool and sat on one of the plastic chairs that perched by the water's edge did I finally let my scattered thoughts converge in my mind.

Maybe I was a little hard on Sam and Dean, but how could I not be? Adam was my brother after all, and I still cared about him deeply. To know that he was a demon now...it broke my heart.

However; what Adam said about Sam and Dean still played through my mind over and over:

 _"I wouldn't trust these two. They seem to be focused on only saving each other; even at the expense of other family."_

But that wasn't completely true was it? Sam said he sacrificed himself to save the world, and from what I could tell, Dean went along with his plan. The way they explained it, Adam was merely caught in the crossfire. He was basically forced to say yes  
to Michael and when Michael took possession of his body, Adam had no control when he decided to try and pull Sam back from the edge of the pit, causing both of them to tumble in.

Maybe the reason I was so angry with Sam and Dean was because apart of me didn't want to blame myself for what happened to Adam. When I left him all alone almost three years ago, it never even occurred to me that it would have any major repercussions  
in his life that could be harmful. But as fate would have it, soon after I left the ghouls came knocking. What Adam said was right: if I had been there during the attack, it was possible his death might have never even happened. Now don't get me wrong,  
I'm not stupid enough to think I could have stopped what the angels had planned for him, but I could have prevented him from experiencing at least one horrible death.

With these thoughts eating away at me, I lingered around for another hour before returning to the motel room. When I opened the door I was met with darkness. The boys must have been asleep. It wasn't until I completely stepped into the room did I notice  
a faint light coming from Sam's bed. I could just make out his silhouette that was illuminated by his computer that rested on his lap.

"You still awake?" I asked incredulously once my vision adjusted to the dark. It was after two AM. I glanced over at Dean who was sound asleep in the recliner, snoring softly. I peered at the bedside table beside him and didn't miss the outlines of beer  
cans strewn about on its surface. I shifted my eyes away just when Sam glanced up from his computer with tired eyes.

"Yeah, I uh...I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd research a little bit."

"Oh, what are you researching?" I questioned as I sat on the unoccupied bed, facing Sam. I was hoping to avoid the topic of Demon Adam for the time being, not wanting to bring it up again at the moment. Turns out this was the wrong question to ask.

"I'm trying to figure out what kind of demon has blue-grey eyes. So far I've found nothing."

Sam regarded me wearily when he said this and when he saw my expression he gave me a sympathetic look. He set his computer aside and sat up on the bed with his elbows on his knees so that he was facing me. I studied my hands, not meeting his gaze. I had  
a feeling of what he would say next.

"I'm sorry about Adam. I know I've already said it, but I want you to know that Dean and I feel the guilt for what happened to him. You're not alone in this. We'll help you get him back...somehow."

I looked at him and responded truthfully, "Thank you, but it's hard to feel grateful when my brother is walking around as some kind of otherworldly demon that we know nothing about."

Sam looked like he was about to say something else, but thought better of it.

Sensing that our short conversation was over, I got ready for bed. The gleam from Sam's laptop caught my eye again and when I glanced over at him he was once again stretched out on the bed, his computer laying on his lap.

"Why don't you try and sleep again? Who knows what tomorrow will bring," I suggested.

"Yeah, I will...as soon as I uh, finish reading this web page," he murmured, gesturing toward the screen.

I could tell he was avoiding something, but I was too tired to bring up another conversation.

"Alright then. Good night, Sam."

"Good night, Marie."

I laid in bed trying to calm my mind. It was difficult, considering the events of the day. It was a good hour before I actually fell asleep to the sound of Dean's snoring and the rattle of the motel air conditioner. The glow from Sam's laptop never once  
faded out. 

* * *

I wasn't asleep for long when an awfully vivid dream played out in my head of the night I ran out on my family nearly three years ago:

 _I threw a couch pillow across the living room in anger. It hit a lamp and they both crashed to the ground. The lamp shade rolled across the floor._

 __

 _"Marie!" Shouted my mother. She picked up the pillow and flung it back onto the couch. The lamp was all but forgotten. "You need to calm down! Why can't we just have a normal conversation without you getting all worked up?"_

 __

 _"Why can't you just let me do what I want?" I retorted. My mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hated it when I answered her questions with my own._

 __

 _"Because, what you want is dangerous and you could get yourself killed."_

 __

 _"You don't know that! I could be as good a hunter as Dad."_

 __

 _My mother glanced around the house as if she were wary of who was listening in on our argument, but I had already made sure Adam wasn't at the house before I mentioned anything of what Dad did for a living. My mother looked back at me with an even gaze._

 __

 _"Even John got hurt, Marie. Every hunter gets hurt. There are no exceptions."_

 __

 _"So? Just because there's a possibility of me getting hurt doesn't mean I shouldn't do what I think is right."_

 __

 _I was so far up on my high horse that her next words hit me like a ton of bricks._

 __

 _"You don't know what's right! The only way hunters come to be is if something supernatural comes and destroys their life. Wrecks it so much that they become hell-bent on revenge for the rest of their lives!"_

 __

 _I stared at her with an astonished expression,"How do you know?"_

 __

 _My mother's eyes softened a little bit. It occurred to me that she might be recalling something from her past with John._

 __

 _"Your father told me as much," she paused for a moment and then continued, "If what you want to do is save people, go to school and become a doctor like Adam is...or even become a cop, I don't care. Just please, don't go out and do anything you'll regret. Hunting is not a game, Marie."_

 __

 _"Don't you think I know that? I'm not some stupid child that needs someone to look out for me my whole life."_

 __

 _"I know that, Marie. You've always been very independent."_

 __

 _"Then why? Why are you so against me following in Dad's footsteps? And I want the truth this time, not the same crap I've heard every time I bring it up."_

 __

 _My mother looked me dead in the eyes and said the words that deep down I knew she always thought were true._

 __

 _"You're not strong enough, and you never will be."_

 __

 _I stared at her with my mouth agape._

 __

Was she serious?  
 _  
_

 _"What do you mean I'm not strong enough? I was on almost every sports team my high school had to offer! I was at the top of my class in just about every subject! I think I'm plenty strong enough."_

 __

 _"Not physically or mentally strong enough, I'm talking about emotionally-"_

 __

 _I put my hands on my hips, my anger had finally reached its boiling point, "What the hell does that mean?"_

 __

 _My mother regarded me with the most earnest expression that I have ever seen her give, "John's told me plenty of stories about his time hunting... Marie, what these hunters go through and experience on a day to day basis is something I would never want for my children."_

 __

 _I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I spit out my next words before I could stop myself, "Well, if it was something you never wanted for your children, maybe you shouldn't have gotten knocked up by a hunter in the first place!"_

 __

 _I immediately regretted what I just said. Whenever I lost my temper, I could barely control what came out of my mouth. I should have known better than to bring up this particular topic of conversation. It was always a touchy subject for her, one we usually avoided at all costs, no matter how heated our arguments became. It just goes to show that this argument was one that we both wouldn't be able to walk away from._

 __

 _My mother stared at me with a hurt look on her face. The pain that resided on her face soon morphed into a different emotion: Anger. It was an expression I was used to seeing upon my mother's face when arguing with her, but not to such an extent that I was actually scared of what was about to come out of her mouth next. Turns out it was the words that seemed to decide all of our fates._

 __

 _"You know what? Fine, If that's how you want to throw away your life, go ahead. But I'm just letting you know: If you step out that door, don't you ever come back."_

 __

 _I glared at her in disbelief, "How could you say that?"_

 __

 _"Because I don't want Adam dragged into this mess you plan to make for yourself."_

 __

 _I laughed, "Oh yeah, I forgot that Adam was your favorite."_

 __

 _I knew I was being childish, but at this point I didn't care. Plus, on some level, I knew what I said was right. Before my mother could come up with a response, I said with my voice dripping with contempt, "I'll just pack my bags and get out of your hair then."_

 __

 _I turned my back on my mother and ran up the stairs to my room._

 __

 _My mother and I never saw eye to eye. When she wanted to go left, I wanted to go right, it was as simple as that. But something about this argument was different. It was as if all of our frustrations toward each other had finally come to a head._

 __

 _Once I stuffed the majority of my clothes inside my duffle bag, I made my way back down stairs._

 __

 _"Marie hold on a second-" My mother started, obviously regretting her spoken words just as much as I did. But I was too angry to think rationally about anything my mother had to say as I made my way towards the front door._

 __

 _"No mom, I'm leaving just like you want me to."_

 __

 _"And where do you plan to go?"_

 __

 _"I'll find Dad..." I trailed off, already knowing what my mother's response would be._

 __

 _"He'd never take you in. There was a reason why he kept what he did a secret. He doesn't want anyone he cares about to be swept into the life."_

 __

 _I stopped in my tracks and spun around to face my mother, unable to resist the urge to come up with some kind of retort. I had never been one to walk away from an argument._

 __

 _"Well then I'll just find somewhere else to go," I put one hand on my hip and rested my index finger on my chin while closing my eyes, as if I were in deep thought, "I hear Florida's nice this time of year."_

 __

 _"Marie, be serious," my mother reprimanded. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, she had a knowing look on her face, "I didn't want to bring this topic up but...has it ever occurred to you that your father might not be alive?"_

 __

 _I dropped my hand from my face and looked at my mother apprehensively._

 __

 _"What do you mean?"_

 __

 _"He hasn't visited or called in years. There has been absolutely no sign of him. I think maybe something finally got him."_

 __

 _"No, that's not possible."_

 __

 _"I don't want to believe it either but I think that it's very possible. See what I mean? No hunter is invincible, not even one like John."_

 __

 _"Dad isn't dead. I won't believe it until I see some proof. I'm sorry Mom, but my mind has already been made up. I'm leaving."_

 __

 _I stomped my way to the front door and stuck out my hand in an attempt to grab the knob and throw it open. Before I could get my hand on the handle, the door flew inwards and Adam stood in the doorway. We stared at each other for a long moment and then he glanced down at the bag I held in my hand. A confused look flashed in his blue eyes._

 __

 _"What's going on?" He asked._

 __

 _I backed out of the doorway in order to let him through but once he was out of the way I took ahold of the door handle; my intent was to leave without another word._

 __

 _"Marie?"_

 __

 _Hearing his voice stopped me from taking another foot out the door. I turned around and looked him in the eye, not even giving my mother a glance._

 __

 _"I'm leaving Adam. I'm sorry, but I just can't live in this house any longer."_

 __

 _"Why?" The confusion on my brother's face only deepened. He was never around for most of the fights my mother and I had. Mostly because they involved what our father did for a living and how I wanted to do the same._

 __

 _"Because...I just can't okay. It's not because of you."_

 __

 _I started walking out the door to my truck, Adam following right behind me._

 __

 _"Then what's the reason?"_

 __

 _"I-I can't tell you."_

 __

 _"Well then that's a load of bull!" He yelled, his temper flaring. I climbed in my truck and shut the door. The window was rolled down so I looked at my brother and continued our conversation._

 __

 _"Look, I'm sorry Adam. But I need to leave. You've already found your place in the world, now it's time I found mine. I know you'll become a great doctor, but that's not me."_

 __

 _"You don't have to be a doctor! You can become anything you want!"_

 __

 _"I know that. That's why I'm leaving. Goodbye Adam, feel free to call me anytime. I'll do the same. I'll miss you bro."_

 __

 _Adam stepped away from the window with a look of betrayal on his face. I rolled up my window with the manual crank that rested on the inside bottom of the car door. I started my truck and it sputtered and roared to life. As I backed out of the drive way, I looked again at my house. My mother and brother were nowhere to be seen. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road and off my house that was fading away in the distance._

 __

 _I would always remember the feeling that crept through my body when my home was no longer in sight. It was one of horrible foreboding and terrible things to come. And I, of course, was too stupid to turn my ass around and drive the other way._

* * *

**A/N: So another flashback, yay! I thought it would be fun to draw some similarities between the night Sam ran away to college and the night Marie ran away to become a hunter, but still with some major differences of course. I hope you enjoyed!**


	12. 12 Twist

•~ **MARIE** ~•

I awoke to the sound of someone rushing around the room. The sunlight streamed through the dark green curtains and directly onto my face. It took me awhile to fully return to consciousness, reflecting on the dream I just had. I've always had vivid dreams,  
but that one seemed more realistic than usual.

Once I had awoken completely, I sat up and observed my surroundings. It was early, due to the sunshine creeping through the window at almost a horizontal angle. The room was a mess; weapons and clothes were strewn around the room and a few beer cans had  
been accumulated on every flat surface. It wasn't helping that Dean was walking around gathering all my belongings and putting them on the small breakfast table that sat awkwardly by the door. His hair was haphazard and he wore the same clothes as  
he did at the bar; a red and black flannel and jeans. I stared at him with a dumbfounded expression as he picked up my gun I had laid on my bedside table and placed it in the same pile as everything else. His face was stony and unreadable, and he  
acted as if I wasn't sitting there staring at him.

"Dean, what are you doing?" I asked politely, even though I was a little irritated by the fact that he was touching my stuff without my permission. When he didn't answer my question, I glanced over at Sam who was laying in the other bed fast asleep. He  
also appeared to have never changed out of the clothes he had worn to the bar. He was on his back with his arm draped across his eyes so that his face was in the crook of his elbow. I recognized that position as the same one I did when I found it  
difficult to sleep.

I fixed my eyes on Dean again, careful to keep my voice low for Sam's sake, "Dean, seriously, what are you doing? You're starting to freak me out."

Dean paused in his tracks and glanced at me. A look of distress was evident in his eyes.

"You're leaving," he announced as if it were a statement of fact.

"What are you talking about?"

"We had a deal remember? If things went south, you pack up and you leave. No questions. No complaints."

"There's no way I'm leaving, Dean," I said with a slight laugh. I slipped on my glasses and climbed off the bed. Was he being serious?

"You agreed-"

"I don't care what I agreed to. You can't just throw me out. You heard what Adam said; I'm in this just as much as you and Sam."

Dean waved his hand as if in dismissal.

"Oh, don't give me that. You had nothing to do with what happened to him. That's all on me...and Sam. You need to pack your crap and leave now before he shows up again."

Dean started to walk towards my duffle bag that was resting on the floor by the foot of my bed. I made a beeline for it as well. We both reached it at the same exact time and both of us pulled on a handle. It was like a game of tug of war as we each pulled  
on the duffle for a couple of seconds. I would have laughed if it had not been a serious situation because I was sure we looked like a couple of kids fighting over a toy.

Finally, we each relaxed our grip and the duffle hung limply between us. Both of us were too prideful and stubborn to let go of the bag and let the other person win.

"Marie, let go of the bag," Dean said scornfully as he raised a finger and gave me a condescending look.

I let out a laugh full of disbelief and annoyance then said, "It's my bag, idiot. You let go."

"Marie, seriously?" Dean asked in exasperation.

"Dean, seriously?" I mocked in a low voice. Dean gave me a look but before he could say anything else I took on a serious tone and exclaimed, "Adam is my brother. If you think I'm gonna leave him to be dealt with by you and Sam, you have another thing  
coming. Now let go of my bag."

I must have let my temper slip slightly because I said this louder than necessary and I heard a grunt as Sam jerked awake. I glanced over at him and he had a dazed expression on his face. It quickly morphed into amusement when he took in our odd semi-tug  
of war game.

"Are you two having fun?" He said with a slight smile.

Dean stared daggers at his brother but then reluctantly let go of the handle and walked away with his back towards us. He obviously was not in the mood to be the brunt of his brother's jokes at the moment. I let go of my handle as well, and the duffle  
fell to the ground with a thump.

"Sorry for waking you, Sam," I muttered, knowing he probably needed the sleep.

"It's no big deal."

He waved off my apology before yawning into his arm. I sighed and looked back over at Dean who was still facing away from us with his hands resting on his hips. Sam had to obviously sense the tension that radiated off the both of us. He stood up off the  
bed and crossed his arms; any trace of amusement slipped off his features.

"Alright, so, what's the problem? I knew it would only be a matter of time before you two started throwing hissy fits with each other," he said.

I glared at him, feeling impatient, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I figured since both of you are kinda similar-"

"Sam, that is not what we're talking about right now." Dean spun around and looked at his brother, a scowl on his face as he said his next words, "Tell Marie that she needs to leave."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched up and he gave Dean an expression that I couldn't decipher.

"Dean-" he started.

Dean cut him off again, obviously recognizing the look that crossed Sam's face, "No...really?" Dean began with a look of disbelief. "You're really gonna side with her? Sam, you said you'd be the one that would tell her to go if things went wrong. And  
look what's happened- things have definitely gone ass backwards."

"It's her brother, Dean. What do you want me to do? She deserves to see this through. She's just as much a part of it as we are."

I was happy to at least have one brother on my side.

"She could get herself killed!" Dean argued.

"Like hell I will! This is my fight too, whether you like it or not," I snapped.

"I have to agree with Marie on this one Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said.

Dean looked between the two of us and when he saw his brother's unwavering expression, he let out a long groan and exclaimed, "My God, It's just like Adam all over again."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam said defensively.

"Oh, you were all for letting Adam help us find his mother even though he had absolutely no training; just because he begged to come along."

I glanced at Sam curiously and he let out a disbelieving scoff before responding, "That Adam turned out to be a ghoul, remember? Plus, Marie has had at least two and a half years of experience as a hunter."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh in way that let me know he was pretty much grasping at straws at this point.

"Cut the crap Dean, what's the real reason you don't want me to tag along?" I demanded.

Dean gave me a look and I swear it was like he was drowning. Whatever he was about to confess must have been eating him up inside from the moment he met me, if not before then.

"Your brother died because of me, and then I didn't save him when given the choice. I'll be damned if something happens to you because of me, too." He muttered, his voice faltering.

I stared at him in bewilderment. I was touched, but at the same time taken off guard by his sudden display of raw emotion. He didn't strike me to be someone who would readily throw their thoughts and feelings out on the table for everyone to see.

When I said my next words, they came out quietly, "You guys need to stop feeling so guilty. I'm sorry about what I said last night. I know both of you didn't intentionally leave Adam. I was just still reeling from our run-in with him."

Sam looked down at his hands and had a small frown on his face. I could still tell he felt guilty, but I'm pretty sure that what I said had gotten through to him. Dean, on the other hand, still had the same look on his face as if he were sinking in quicksand.

"I know, but I could have done something. I should have bargained with Death more so that I could bring back both Sam and Adam's souls, I could have-"

"Dean, stop," Sam held up a hand and I looked at him in surprise, "Look, I know you feel the need to put everything on your shoulders -I've felt that same way too- but I think it's time we both just accept that some bad things happen we have no control  
over."

I nodded my head, "the best we can do now is find a way to get Adam back."

There was a moment of silence as Dean looked between the two of us. I studied his expression, and even though I saw some of the guilt seemingly evaporating off his shoulders, I knew it would never completely disappear from them. Before I could try to  
convince him of his innocence, a hard mask appeared and slid over his face, making his expression unreadable once again. He then changed the subject and said, " _If_ we can get him back. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for trying to find a way  
to bring Adam back from the dark side, but he is a demon. I think we know what that means and what we have to be prepared to do if things don't go our way."

"Yes, but we're not to that point yet, so let's cross that bridge later if we ever get to it," I said hurriedly. I did not want to talk about having to put down my brother if we couldn't find a way to save him. I glanced over at Sam, "Did you ever find  
anything on demons that have grayish blue eyes instead of black?"

Sam crossed his arms, "No, I've found nothing in the lore about that. There also hasn't been any demonic omens around this town either, which is strange. A demon with Adam's amount of power should have produced omens that stretched on for miles, but there's  
been no trace of any kind."

"Huh."

"Dean," Sam said, "maybe we should try calling Cas to see if he knows anything?"

Dean was about to respond but I said, "Your angel friend? I'm not sure you guys. From what you've explained angels can be real insensitive jerks. Not that I'm saying Castiel is, but I'd rather not have a bunch of his angel buddies trying to smite my brother."

"She's right. I think it's best to leave Cas out of this one, at least for the time being. Getting angels involved could make this whole situation worse," Dean admitted.

"Are you sure? Cas could-" Sam began, but was cut off by the sound of Dean's phone ringing. I wasn't really surprised when I recognized the guitar riff. Of course that would be his ringtone.

Dean sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His face showed confusion when he saw the caller ID, but he answered it anyway.

"Hello? Who's this...?" There was a pause and then, "Who...? Garth? Wait, wait, wait, just stop talking. Let me put you on speaker."

Dean pushed a button and the incessant noise that was just barely audible suddenly filled up the motel room in the form of a frantic voice.

" _Actually, it's Garth Fitzgerald IV, but that's not the point. Look, man, I've got this crazy shifter trying to stake it's territory over here in Stillwater. I'm lucky I made it out alive. If you and your bro could just get here on the double that'd be sweet-"_

"Just, hold up for a second. Who did you say you were?"

 _"It's Garth!"_

"Mmm...sorry not ringing any bells."

 _"Come on, you remember me! I helped you in that case awhile back when Sam got hitched to that super fan."_

Sam and Dean's faces lit up with recognition. I was more focused on another piece of information though.

I whipped my head in Sam's direction, "Wait, you're married? How come you didn't tell me? Who's the lucky girl?"

My questions came out faster than I meant and I was surprised to see that Sam was actually blushing.

"It's...uh, no one," he stuttered in embarrassment. "I mean, we got divorced. I-It really was a weird time. There was this potion and...-know what?" Sam caught himself, "It wasn't a big deal, it was over in like a week."

Garth laughed on the other end of the phone line, probably about to come up with a quip to try and make fun of Sam. I had a feeling that Garth didn't really have a verbal filter.

"Garth, what were you saying about a shifter?" Sam said, his face only getting redder and redder. I decided I wouldn't ask him about what happened, I didn't want to bring up anymore old wounds.

 _"So you do remember me! I don't know how both of you could forget, I'm pretty unforgettable-"_

"Garth!" All three of us yelled at the same time.

 _"Okay, okay jeez, tough crowd..."_ Garth then sobered up and a serious tone made its way into his voice, _"But yeah, there's a shifter on my tail and he ain't hesitating with the beatings. I only just escaped him. Look, I wouldn't normally call in other hunters for help, but this nasty sucker is immensely strong and only coming after me for some reason. Y'all are the only hunters in the vicinity I could get a hold of."_

Sam, Dean, and I glanced at each other. I could tell from the looks on their faces that they were deeply conflicted on what to do. They looked me in the eye and I nodded my head. As much as I wanted to stay here and help my brother, I knew this hunter,  
whoever he was, needed our help big time.

"Alright. You said you were in Stillwater right?" Dean said, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

 _"Yeah. I'm in an abandoned house on Old Pine Street. It's pretty run down. You won't miss it."_

"Okay we'll meet you there."

 _"Thanks, guys,"_ Garth said and hung up.

Dean lowered his phone and sighed. Once again Sam and Dean glanced at me apologetically.

"Guys, it's fine. It's not like we have any real leads on Adam's whereabouts. Our best bet is to wait for him to show up again. And, honestly, I'd rather be spending that time taking down a monster than waiting for My Brother the Demon to show up and  
kill us all."

Sam and Dean stared at me for a moment then nodded in agreement and began to gather their things for the hunt/rescue mission. I did the same, all the while fighting off a nasty bit of foreboding that reminded me of the night I ran away from home. 

* * *

**A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you're still enjoying it so far because there's going to be some action packed chapters ahead! It may seem like I'm going off on a tangent with the random distress call from Garth (love him by the way) but it'll all tie in. So don't worry! Stay tuned!**

 ****

 **By the way, thank you so much for the favs, follows and continued reviews! I've read all of the comments and they make my day and keep me motivated:)**

 ****


	13. 13 Detour to Deception

•{ **SAM** }•

In my opinion, Garth could have picked a better place to hole up; the house that we pulled up next to was clearly abandoned. It was a two story home with a wrap around porch that made it look a whole lot bigger than it actually was.

Not only was it run down, but it resembled the stereotypical house in a horror movie. About half of the windows were broken and weeds grew through the crevices of the front steps that led to the ripped screen door. The roof was falling in and the dead  
spindly trees on either side of the yard added to the ominous effect the house had on the rest of the street. There weren't many residences nearby, which we were thankful for. We looked like a bunch of criminals on the run sneaking into the house  
with the myriad of weapons we were carrying. We brought everything we thought could be useful, considering how powerful Garth had said the shifter was.

As we approached the front steps, I couldn't stop the yawn that crawled up my throat.

Once I recovered, I saw him in the corner of my vision. I stopped in my tracks and was immediately on high alert. I turned my head quickly in his direction, but the Devil had disappeared. I must have stared rigidly the same spot longer than necessary  
because Marie looked at me curiously.

"Sam, you okay?" She asked.

I nodded, maybe a little too vigorously, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thought I saw something. But it's nothing." I turned and gave her a fake smile before resuming my walk to catch up with Dean. Even as the three of us reached the front door, Adam's words came  
back to me:

 _How's those hallucinations working out for you Sam? ...I can tell you right now they are about to get a whole lot worse._

Ever since our encounter with Adam, I have been constantly on edge; waiting for the moment my entire reality went guano and left me to be a danger to myself and others. So far nothing out of the ordinary regarding my mental state has happened; just a  
few glimpses of Lucifer like the one I had a second ago. You knew your life is seriously jacked up when you say seeing the Devil is ordinary.

When the three of us reached the front door, we didn't bother to knock. Instead, with Dean in the lead, we crept single file through the doorway with our guns lowered but still in a ready position in the event we ran into something. Though we tried our  
best to stay quiet, the floor boards creaked and groaned under our feet as if we were going to fall through at any moment.

In the light of this, it really shouldn't have come to a surprise when Garth's gangling frame sped around the corner and whacked Dean in the face with a broom stick. Dean stumbled back against me cursing in pain while Marie and I raised our guns at Garth.  
He immediately lifted his hands in surrender and began apologizing profusely.

"Dude, I am so sorry! I thought you were the shifter-" Garth began hurriedly before being cut off by Dean.

"What the hell, man! Look before you start swinging around a weapon!" Dean bellowed, clutching his nose that had begun to bleed down his mouth and onto his jacket. He squinted at the object Garth still had in his hands, "Wait...is that a broom? Did you  
just attack me with a friggin' broom?" He began advancing towards Garth who backed away slowly as if confronted by an angry bear.

Before my brother could start throwing punches, I stepped beside him and stuck my arm out against his chest. Garth already looked beaten up enough as it was. His arm was stuck in a makeshift sling and he leaned gravely to his right side, taking the weight  
off his left leg. He sported a massive bruise on his cheek bone and his bottom lip was swollen twice its normal size.

"Slow your roll Dean, it was an accident," I said.

"You're lucky my nose isn't broken!" Dean snapped at Garth, raising a rigid finger to point at him aggressively but he made no further movements in his direction. Once Dean got his temper under control, I dropped my arm back down to my side. I grabbed  
an old rag out of the side pocket of the duffle I was carrying and handed it to Dean. He took it gratefully, pressing it to his nose. Marie came and stood beside me, joining in on the conversation.

"You must be Garth, then?" She asked as if nothing happened, "hi, I'm Marie, nice to meet you," she said politely and stuck out her hand. It made me wonder where she got the whole "polite" thing from, because it sure as hell didn't come from the Winchester  
side of the family. Dean just now was a testament to that.

Garth reluctantly moved forward to shake Marie's hand, still eyeing Dean fearfully.

"Nice to meet you too. So which one are you with?" Garth gestured between me and Dean and we both furrowed our brows in confusion.

"Pardon me?" Marie asked. I opened my mouth to speak as well, but Dean beat us both to the punch line.

"Neither, Garth. She's our sister...well, half-sister." His voice was muffled by the rag that was still pressed there.

"Oh really? So you're available?" Garth questioned hopefully, looking back at Marie.

"Wha-" she started, clearly taken aback.

"Can we get on topic please?" Dean said impatiently as he tried to pry Garth's attention away from Marie.

"Sure thing hombre," he said, halting his attempt to smooth down his hair. He winked at Marie before finally tuning into what Dean was questioning about the shifter.

"What just happened?" Marie whispered in my direction. If this weren't a grim situation, I could have laughed at her expression. She looked so lost.

"It's Garth, you get used to him," I whispered back.

Marie nodded and we focused on the conversation taking place.

"So this shifter comes out of nowhere, beats the crap out of you, all while wearing your face?" Dean was saying.

"Correctamundo. And let me tell ya, do you know how bizarre it is to be beaten up by yourself? Talk about a drop in self confidence," Garth said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"How did you escape?" Asked Marie.

"It just let me go and I cut and ran before it could think twice about it. I wasn't about to stick around to ask questions without some serious backup."

"And that's where we come in," I stated.

"Yep. This thing was way stronger than your average shifter."

After a few seconds of silence, Dean spoke up again, "So how're we gonna gank this son of a bitch? Just wait here until it shows up to kill us?"

"You got a better idea?" Garth questioned. He didn't look up to moving around much anyway. Our best bet would be to lie in wait for the shifter to come knocking.

"It's as good a plan as any," I said. 

* * *

It really wasn't my intention to fall asleep on the stained, dusty old couch. My intention was to sit and rest my eyes before it was my turn to take watch. But as soon as I let my eyes sink closed, I was asleep.

It wasn't long before I felt a hand shaking my shoulder, trying to wake me. In aggravation I pushed the hand away, reluctant to be woken up. This was the first good nap I've had in awhile, and somebody had to go and ruin it.

"Sam, get up man. You gotta take watch."

I was about to tell whoever it was to shove off, but the voice that traveled through the groggy static that occupied my sleep-deprived mind had me fully awake in a matter of moments. It was the voice I'd been tortured by for the last several months.

My eyes snapped open and locked on Lucifer's face that was hovering just a couple feet away. I sat up and immediately rubbed my eyes, but it did nothing. The Devil was still there. Even as I watched, a red veil spread around him, enveloping my surroundings  
with a glimpse of Hell. My eyes widened as I leaned away from him and he did the same, a look of false concern appearing on his face.

"Get the hell away from me," I growled menacingly and he leaned back even further. I discreetly stuck my hand into the crevices of the couch, searching for the knife I had earlier. It was no where to be found.

"Sammy, you okay? You're not having one of your hallucinations are you?" Lucifer said, and his voice sounded like it was traveling through a tunnel.

As he said this, he reached out his hand and grasped my shoulder hard. My heart pounded as I looked down at it and grabbed his wrist to try and pry his hand off my shoulder. I felt my fingernails digging into his skin.

"Ow! Dude, it's me. Chill!"

When I glanced back up, it took me a moment to realize that Lucifer had disappeared to be replaced by a very bruised-nosed, worry-stricken Dean. I let go of his wrist and let my shaky hand fall back by my side. Dean removed his hand and rubbed his wrist.

"Sorry," I muttered. There was no use in trying to hide what happened. I sighed when I saw Dean's expression. It was as if he were looking at some hurt animal.

"Look, Dean, I know-"

"It's fine. You stay here and get some more shut eye. Marie and I will take the second watch," he said, turning away.

"Dean, I'm okay. I can take watch," I implored, quickly getting to my feet. I instantly regretted my sudden movement due to the sudden lightheadedness and darkened vision as the blood rushed from my head. I really needed sleep.

"No, you're not okay," Dean said earnestly, reaching a hand out and keeping me from listing to the side, "I think you should sit this one out."

"No way, let me do my part."

"Sam-"

"You're exhausted Dean. Tell me, how many hours have you been sitting outside? I think we both know you would have the same chance of going as crazy as me if you took watch again."

Dean looked like he wanted to argue. But even as I spoke, his eyes started to droop closed.

"You sure you're okay?" He mumbled, his voice slurred with tiredness.

"Yes, Dean. I'm perfectly okay."

Dean raised his eyebrow at that statement but to my surprise he said in resignation, "Alright fine. You can take watch. But only because I'm falling asleep on my feet staring at your ugly face."

I let out a scoff as he patted my shoulder and passed me in order to face plant onto the couch. I was actually surprised he let me off the hook so quickly. With one more glance at Dean's sleeping form, I walked to the front of the house to take my shift. 

* * *

Three hours in and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. It was night time now and I sat on an old fold up chair outside the front door of the house. It was chilly, and sudden gusts of wind informed us that a storm was on its way. Even though it was  
cold, we kept the front and back doors open to keep an eye on each other. The shifter could come through any entrance, and we had to be prepared.

I glanced through the front door and saw Garth sleeping on the ratty recliner that sat in the corner. He'd taken first watch with Dean and deserved the nap he was getting now. I looked farther back into the house at the back door that was visible from  
where I sat. Marie kept watch there, and she didn't look the least bit tired. She must have sensed me looking because she glanced over at me and gave me a thumbs up. I returned the favor and turned my head back in the direction of the front yard to  
continue my watch.

 _"Pssst!"_

I looked back over at Marie.

 _"Where's Dean?"_ She whispered.

 _"Getting food,"_ I mouthed back. She nodded and gave me the 'okay' sign and turned her head back to the outside. Dean left about ten minutes ago to get take out at a Chinese restaurant we saw on the way here. We were all starving and we had to keep  
our strength up if we wanted to take this shifter head on. We still weren't sure why exactly the shapeshifter was after Garth. All we could do was wait and find out.

Another twenty minutes passed by and the only factor keeping me awake now was my stomach growling in hunger. I turned my head in the direction of the street that ran in front of the house, unable to comprehend what was taking Dean so long. My brother's  
Impala was no where in sight. I leaned back in my chair and let out a sigh and bounced my knee in agitation. At this point, I was more annoyed with Dean than worried that something might have happened to him. Though that soon changed when not a single  
pair of familiar headlights crossed the road in front of the house for over twenty minutes.

I looked back into the house to find Garth still asleep and Marie just about as worried as I was.

"Where is he?" She whispered loudly.

I shrugged my shoulders in response and pulled out my cellphone. I quickly dialed the number I knew by heart and got the familiar voicemail in return.

 _"Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."_

I closed my eyes in frustration before leaving a message, "Dean, where the hell are you? Answer your phone dammit."

After I hung up, I stood up and started pacing. I couldn't stop my mind from straying toward the inevitable. What if the shifter had gotten the jump on him somehow? I had half a mind to go and look for him, but common sense told me to stay put. I was  
still on watch and I couldn't abandon my post. Plus, I wasn't gonna get very far without a vehicle.

I was about to dial Dean's number again but a sound of a car engine interrupted me. I looked down the street and saw the Impala coming into view. I let out a sigh of relief and slumped back down in the chair.

Dean stepped out of his car and made his way up the porch steps. He stopped in front of me and his oblivious and beatific expression told me he thought there was nothing wrong. As expected, his unmindfulness grated against my nerves.

"Dude, did you actually go to China to get the food? What took you so long? Why didn't you answer my call?"

"There was a huge line and a hot waitress. Sue me," he said and I rolled my eyes. "As for not answering your phone call- my phone died. So there ya go."

Dean smirked when he saw I carried the same annoyed look on my face.

"Aw, did widdle Sammy get scared without his big bro around to protect him?" He teased in a babying voice as he continued his walk into the house. As he passed he reached out and ruffled my hair. I leaned back from him in bewildered annoyance.

"Don't do that," I said in a monotone voice.

Dean smirked over his shoulder and flipped me off as he made his way over to a small shabby table in order to set the food down. I stared after him with my mouth slightly ajar.

 _What the hell? Is he drunk?_

He was acting extremely out of character and it was starting to piss me off. If he was drunk, he deserved a serious ass kicking, and I would be the one to do it. After a few moments to compose myself, I stood up off the chair and strode inside the house  
to where Dean and Marie were sorting out the food. The plastic bag that held the food was ripped in several places and when Marie opened up her to-go box, the orange chicken and rice that appeared to have once been carefully separated looked like  
it was warped by a miniature tornado.

"Holy crap Dean, what happened to the food? Did you stop by the laundromat and put it in the spin cycle?" Marie exclaimed.

I opened my box and found my meal in a similar state. I looked over at Dean and observed his expression. He seemed to be trying really hard to come up with an explanation.

"Oh you know, I just ah...dropped the bag in the parking lot. The ground was gravel; that's why the bag is ripped."

Marie and I narrowed our eyes at him as he smiled at us. We both knew something was off, but we couldn't figure out what. He wasn't drunk; he had a sharpness to his eyes any non-sober person would lack. So what could it be?

"Come on guys; it'll still taste the same," he said as he scratched his nose and picked up his carton of noodles.

It was then that I realized what was so off about him. It was the fact that it wasn't him.

The thing standing in front of me was not my brother and the only question that filled my mind was _where is Dean?_ My heartbeat skyrocketed and adrenaline shot through my body. I dared not to try and make eye contact with Marie. I was afraid the imposter  
in front of me would be tipped off at my attempt to warn her. Because of this little fact, Marie's reaction when I pulled out the silver knife and held it against my "brother's" throat was to be expected. She swiftly drew her gun in one precise movement  
and pointed it straight at my head.

"Make one more move, and I'll put a silver bullet through your skull," she hissed. I couldn't blame her for thinking I was the shifter; what seemingly looked like me brandishing a weapon upon my unarmed and unsuspecting brother had to be pretty incriminating.

"Marie, I know what this looks like, but you have to believe me; I am not the one you should be pointing that gun at!"

Even while I said this, the shifter wearing Dean's face gave me a painfully broad smile that did not suit my brother's face at all. I didn't return the smile; I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't want to punch in the teeth of the monster that stood  
in front of me.

Marie took in my stone-faced expression and the shifter's relaxed one. It didn't seem at all bothered by the deadly knife resting at its throat. I saw the exact moment when Marie realized her mistake but it was a moment too late. Before she got the chance  
to swivel her aim towards the monster, it knocked the gun out of her hand and moved inhumanly fast out of the reach of my knife. Before I knew it, the shifter had my weapon firmly in its grasp and I was sliding across the room with the air knocked  
completely out of me. I came to a stop against the wall, and for a moment nothing else existed but the blinding pain that ricocheted throughout my abdomen. I closed my eyes to take it in, and when I opened them, what I saw forced a new dose of adrenaline  
through my system.

The shifter impersonating Dean slowly advanced towards Marie with my knife in its hand. The devilish grin engraved upon its face raised the hair on the back of my neck. I tried to force air back into my lungs and get on my feet, but every time I tried,  
I stumbled back against the wall.

"What's the matter, Four-Eyes? Afraid of a little knife?" The shifter taunted.

Marie backed away slowly, a look of absolute fear on her face. Her gaze was transfixed on the knife and her face visibly paled. As I gathered enough strength back to make my way over there my mind flashed back to when Dean an I first met her, and how  
shaken she was when I cut her with the silver knife as a necessary precaution. It never occurred to me that she had a deathly fear against knives. That fear was going to get her killed unless I was able to get to her in time.

I summoned all of my strength and pushed myself off the wall and limped toward the shifter just as Garth woke up from his nap.

"What'd I miss?" He grunted, sitting up in his chair.

"Oh, there's my little friend! It was fun beating you to a pulp, let's do it again shall we?" The shifter said happily and started in Garth's direction, all but forgetting about Marie. Garth scrambled out of his chair as quickly as he could and set himself  
into a fighting stance. However, he didn't look very threatening with his face already busted up and his arm in a sling.

Before the imposter could make his way over to Garth I rammed into him and sent us both tumbling to the ground. I stood up quickly while the shifter laid on the floor, stunned. I heard both Marie and Garth advancing toward us but before they got any closer  
I turned my head and yelled out towards Marie, "Get Garth out of here! It's him this bastard wants, not us!"

"No, I can't leave you with this thing!" Marie shouted in anger. The shifter laughed as he pulled himself off the ground.

"Is that any way to talk about your brother?" The shifter said, but I ignored him, and so did Marie. I steadied myself in front of the shifter, putting myself into a fighting stance as well in case he tried something.

"Go, Marie! Garth can't defend himself with that broken arm. This shifter won't stop until he's dead."

This seemed to decide everything for Marie. Against several protests by Garth trying to convince her to let him stay, Marie all but yanked Garth out of the back door and into the night. I focused all of my attention back on the shifter. My brother's face  
contorted into an overly amused expression as he took in my raised fists and hate-filled eyes.

"Well aren't you just a spunky little Winchester."

"Where's Dean?" I growled. I glanced at the gun that laid on the ground behind the shifter. There was no way I would be able to get to it.

"I dunno. Probably dead in a ditch somewhere; it was all kinda a blur. Boy, that kid can fight! I don't think I could have won if I hadn't gotten the jump on him. Man, if you could have seen his face-"

He was interrupted by the impact of my fist against his jaw. I knew Dean wasn't dead; he couldn't be. The imposter stumbled backwards and his joyous smile transformed into an expression of rage. He wiped the blood off his lip and came rushing at me with  
his stolen knife raised. He swiped at me with the knife but I leaned away and was able to grab his forearm that carried the weapon. I twisted his arm until he was forced to let go of the knife, and it fell to the ground with a clatter.

Before I could even attempt to reach for the weapon, the shifter returned the favor with a punch to my face. His inhumanly strong arm sent me reeling backwards and before I knew it I was being punched again and again. I tried to block them, but it was  
as if time sped up and I couldn't catch up to it. An especially nasty punch to the nose sent the blood gushing and I felt it running down across my lips. Garth was right; this shifter was way stronger than normal.

With a final kick to my already bruised stomach I was sent onto my back and the air was once again knocked out of my lungs. I tried to breathe, but there was more than just blood blocking my airways: A new pressure was applied against my throat. I opened  
my eyes to see Dean's impersonator above me with both his hands wrapped around my neck. The shifter had a sickening smile engraved on his features as I tried to push against his face with one hand in order to try and get him to loosen up his grip.

"Dean..." I choked out. My oxygen depleted brain caused my reasoning skills to not be at their strongest at that point. Deep down I knew it wasn't actually Dean that was choking me to death. But in that precise, oxygen deprived moment, it _was_.

My arm weakened with the loss of air to my lungs, and my arm fell back by my side as my vision faded to black. The last thing I remembered was hearing Marie's voice yelling my name in panic and the shifter's grip becoming tighter and tighter.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it had to happen! All answers will be revealed though, so don't worry;)**

 ****

 **Once again, thank you for supporting this story!**


	14. 14 Transformations

•~ **MARIE** ~•

It wasn't until I burst back into the ruined house after getting Garth to a safe distance did I realize how completely screwed we were. My heart jumped in my throat as I witnessed the shifter that impersonated Dean choking the life out of Sam. Even as  
I watched in frozen horror, Sam's hand that was trying to push away against Shifter-Dean's face shook violently and collapsed down by his side.

"Sam!" I started running towards the gun that was laying several feet behind the shifter. The skills I learned during my hunting stint in Florida shone through when I dived for the gun and twisted on my heel so that I was facing towards the back of the  
shifter. Blazing fire exploded out of the barrel of the gun as I unloaded three consecutive bullet rounds into the monster's back, slightly pained that it looked so much like Dean. But I saw what tipped Sam off in the first place when the shifter  
turned around; there was no bruise on Shifter-Dean's nose from the hard whack of the broom stick Garth delivered in his moment of self-defense. This solved mystery wasn't the main occupier in my mind though; the bigger problem at large was that the  
shifter wasn't laying in his own puddle of blood. The bullets I emptied into the back of the monster were silver; fatal to any shapeshifter.

"H-how-" I began as I backed up, keeping my gun raised nonetheless. The shifter smirked and advanced towards me at a leisurely pace.

"Let's not talk about me. I'm here to talk about you, or at least, what Dean thinks of you."

"Me?"

"Oh yeah," the shifter said knowingly. "Let's start with the fact that ah, Dean here," the shapeshifter tapped his chest, "thinks of you as just another brat he has to look out for."

I glanced over at Sam while the shifter talked. He was deathly pale, and I couldn't tell if he was breathing. Already, bruises could be seen forming around his neck.

 _Please God, don't let Sam be dead_. I pleaded internally.

As much as I wanted to run to his side, I knew the only thing I was capable of doing at the moment was keeping the shifter distracted long enough for me to come up with a plan of attack.

"Yeah right," I took a defensive stance, "Dean knows I can take care of myself, just as much as he knows that of Sam. He feels compelled to be the protective one; that's just who he is."

The shifter chuckled, "You're right, obligation is a big part of it. But not obligation to you or your brother,"  
Shifter-Dean taunted. A smug smile spread across his face that seemed familiar, but just off enough to give me slight goose bumps. His next words were spoken as if he had been waiting all night to say them.

"Did I -he- ever tell you what he would do if he had the choice to go back in time to the deal with Death and bring back either Adam or Sam? He wouldn't even consider it; it would be Sam every time. Just like that. So you see: Dean has absolutely no obligations  
except to his beloved 'Beautiful Mind' brother. He couldn't care less about you or Adam."

I scoffed in disbelief. This shifter was clueless. Maybe if Dean, Sam, and I didn't have that little heart-to-heart about their guilt over Adam's fate in the motel room, I might have been more susceptible to the accusations that were spilling out of his  
mouth. But I knew now where my half-brothers and I stood, and it wasn't underneath the feet of this manipulative monster. I was about to respond with the fact that I knew Dean would choose Sam every time, but my train of thought was broken by movement  
by the door.

It was Dean.

He looked like crap. The bruise that he acquired earlier on his nose was joined by a myriad of others, suggesting he had put up quite the struggle when the shifter jumped him. He was bare foot and his usual military jacket and flannel were missing, leaving  
him in muddy t-shirt and jeans. I swept my eyes back over to the shifter and sure enough, Dean's stolen attire fit snugly onto the shoulders and feet of his imposter.

Immediately after Dean had full view into the living room of the house, I saw him scrutinize the situation. His gaze first roamed over the shifter backing me into the corner and I saw a spark of panic erupt in his eyes. He started in our direction, but  
stopped cold. The previous panic on his face was nothing compared to the cold, unrestricted rage that now flooded his features when he observed Sam spread out on the hard wood floor, still as any dead body.

Dean started walking with murder in his steps and death in his eyes toward the shifter. The monster barely had time to turn around toward the sound of the approaching footsteps before there was a silver knife protruding through his chest, courtesy of  
Dean Winchester.

"You hurt my brother? I'll kill you!" he snarled, and pushed against the knife until it sunk deeper into the shifter's heart. Once it reached its destination, Dean gave it a violent twist; a sure fire way to kill any shapeshifter. Except this wasn't an  
ordinary shifter.

The monster groaned and stumbled back, but soon enveloped into a menacing laughter that sent chills into my bones. He plucked the silver knife from his chest with ease and tossed it on the floor as if it were nothing but a piece of trash. He fixed Dean  
and I with a horrible grin that was unsettling enough to me; I could only imagine how Dean felt, having his own expressions contorted and thrown back at him. But Dean seemed not so much focused on his doppelgänger's face. Rather, he was fixated on  
the gaping hole in the jacket that should have been spurting with blood.

The shifter caught Dean's eye and laughed once again. Then he said, "We've been through this. Ask Marie, she can vouch for me. I say we just jump right into the good part. As in, the scene where I kill your little friend Garth."

The shifter turned and looked specifically at me, "Where did you take him by the way? Surely you picked a good, safe spot to hide the little runt. Wouldn't want him getting involved now would we? It was fun beating him up, let me tell you. He could barely  
put up a fight, unlike Dean here-"

The shifter was cut off by a punch to the face. Dean was breathing hard; I could tell his anger was barely contained and neither was mine. If Dean had not thrown that punch, surely I would have.

The shifter lurched back with the force of the blow, but he barely seemed dazed. He straightened up and once again smirked arrogantly.

"You call that a punch? No wonder I got the jump on you. How pathetic-"

The shifter was interrupted by another blow to the face by Dean. He grunted in pain but Dean didn't stop there. He gripped his doppelgänger by the front of his stolen jacket and pushed him against the wall. Again and again Dean hit him, all while holding  
him in place with one out stretched arm. Each punch was accented by an angry exclamation.

 _Punch_ -" _That_ was for mugging me," _punch_ -" _That_ was for stealing Baby, and _this_ -," Dean pulled his bloodied fist back as far as it would go, "is for attacking my family." He let loose a punch that made the shifter's head snap  
to the side at a precarious angle.

I figured that if I were faced with an enemy that looked just like me, I'd feel at least some reluctance in beating her face in. But Dean has either had a past experience with this kind of situation or he somehow found this therapeutic. Given the ferocity  
of his punches, I'd say both.

"Dean!" I yelled once it was clear that he wouldn't give up on his assailments any time soon. He had to know that what he was doing wasn't in any way actually hurting the shifter; that could be seen in the smile the shifter let loose after every punch  
to the face. But Dean kept at it anyway, seemingly satisfied with every bone crack that could be heard.

I stepped closer, not really sure what I intended to do. The look on Dean's face actually instilled a sense of fear in my system. His expression was excruciatingly calm, but I could tell the placid mask was only just covering the rage and turmoil that  
was permeating his system. I could only imagine what he must have been feeling in that moment. More than likely satisfaction at pummeling the monster that might've done worse than just hurt his brother, and frustrated rage that it had done it with  
Dean's own hands.

Despite my best verbal efforts of protest, Dean barely gave me a glance before rearing his arm back again so that he could let fly another punch. Before he could follow through with his intentions, the shapeshifter lifted up his head and grinned through  
his bloody teeth.

"I bet you're having fun aren't you, Dean? I bet this is just damn cathartic for you isn't it; finally throwing your fists at who you know really deserves it."

"Shut up!" Dean bellowed, rage making his face flush red.

"You couldn't save him," Shifter-Dean continued in a haunting voice. He glanced over at Sam who was still laying on the ground and deathly pale, "You couldn't save either of them."

Dean finally followed through with his punch and the shifter's head again snapped to the side. He spit blood out of his mouth to the ground and grinned back at him. The look that covered his stolen features convinced me that he was only just getting started.

"Let's see how hard you can punch when I'm not wearing your face."

The shifter closed his eyes in concentration, and Dean and I stared at him with disbelieving eyes as he began to transform. The transformation couldn't have lasted more than five seconds but it seemed to be happening in slow motion. He grew in height,  
his green eyes took on a more browner hue, and his hair grew and became darker. His face was metamorphosed into more sharper features until we were staring into the familiar gaze of Sam Winchester.

Dean immediately dropped his hands down by his sides and stepped back, giving the monster a wide berth. Dean's mask of confusion matched my own; I specifically remember hunting a shapeshifter in Florida, and the only way we were ever able to figure out  
who it was that was doing the killing was the shifter's inability to transform on the spot without completely shedding its skin. This shifter on the other hand, was able to transform in a matter of seconds without the need to completely undo itself  
and start from scratch.

"How- what are you?" Dean stammered, temporarily letting his guard down. He glanced back over at Sam, pain lancing across his features. I knew it took everything in him not to go running to his brother's side that very instant.

"More than you ever saw coming," Shifter-Sam replied as he gave a cruel smile. He stepped from the wall and straightened up, fully taking advantage of his newly acquired height. It made me realize just how tall Sam really was, and how intimidating he  
could be if he so desired. The Sam that I knew slouched almost subconsciously, possibly in an attempt to make himself seem smaller and put others at ease. I've only seen glimpses of the Sam that wanted to intimidate people, and observing the shifter  
in front of me, it was someone I would not want to cross.

What was now Shifter-Sam continued to move away from the wall, his gait full of confidence. Dean and I unconsciously backed up, now realizing how outmatched we actually were.

"Answer his question or-" I began, just trying to think of something to say to extend the moment before the shifter decided to kill us.

"Or what, Marie? What could you possibly do to me?" He glared at me as if I were nothing but a pathetic insect he wished to step on with his boot.

Dean took a protective step in front of me, "Look, I'm not gonna ask again. What are you?"

"The oldest there ever was," the shifter said proudly. "Of my kind anyway."

I noticed a glimpse of realization flash across Dean's eyes.

"You're the Alpha? How is that even possible? Crowley killed you," he protested.

I glanced between Dean and the shifter in confusion. _Alpha?_

"What can I say? Crowley should have made sure I was dead," the shifter said nonchalantly.

"No, no. I know Crowley; when he wants someone dead, he'll make sure it happens."

The shifter was silent for a moment, as if he were contemplating his next words carefully. Then he raised both his hands in mock surrender, "You got me. The original Alpha was beheaded by that murdering demon Crowley," he said almost spitefully.

"Well Murder is basically Crowley's middle name. And he is the King of Hell," Dean remarked sardonically. "Murder is kinda in the job description."

My mouth dropped slightly ajar but I closed it quickly before either of them noticed.

 _Is he serious?_ I thought, _do Dean and Sam know the King of Hell?_ Personally!? _Who are these guys I'm related to?_

Then I remembered. I guess it kind of made sense. With one brother being Michael's vessel and the other Lucifer's and the whole world basically resting on their shoulders, you'd expect them to get some VIP action with the dark and scary bits of the supernatural  
world. But still, the King of Hell? I would be lying if I said it didn't make me question their moralities just a little bit.

Shifter-Sam smiled almost genuinely, "Yes, I suppose so. And who am I to judge, really? Anyway, somebody had to take Dad's place as the one on top, so why not his most favored son?"

Dean scoffed, "You gotta be kidding me."

"Afraid not. Now, how 'bout we get on with things. We've been talking way too much."

The shifter moved so fast that neither of us had time to react. He pushed Dean out of the way and made his way toward me. I managed to block one of his punches but the second one seemed to come out of nowhere and hit me across the cheekbone. I stumbled  
back; stars springing up in front of my eyes like miniature fireworks.

Once my vision cleared, what I saw made my stomach drop like it weighted a hundred pounds. Shifter-Sam was advancing toward Dean with a silver knife firmly held in his hand. Dean was slowly backing up and I could see on his face that he was searching  
for some strategy to get out of his dire situation. With a final look in my direction, he tried to communicate something to me with his eyes, but I couldn't tell what it was. Finally, he mouthed the word "knife" and glanced at the duffle bag that  
sat across the room. Despite my confusion, I did what I was silently told and made my way over to the bag just as the shifter landed a gut wrenching punch to Dean's face. He stumbled back against the wall as Sam's doppelgänger raised the knife.

"How does it feel, Dean, to know you're about to be killed by your brother?" The shifter taunted. I couldn't see his face but I imagined Sam's features twisted into an expression of pure malice, and the result was a shiver up my spine.

"Sam was none to happy about it," the shapeshifter continued, "He even thought it was the real you choking him to death in his last few moments."

"Screw you." I heard Dean say, and then grunt as another punch landed.

I finally reached the duffle bag and zipped it open. There were several objects in there but my eyes were immediately drawn toward a knife of about medium size that had a very triangular blade. It wasn't made out of silver, I could tell; it seemed to  
be composed of some other type of metal I had never seen before. I gently picked up the odd knife and tried to control my elevated heartbeat. I could not let my fear of knives stop what I needed to do. Pushing down memories of Florida and _him_ ,  
I gripped the weapon and stood up just as the shifter pinned Dean against the wall with his knife to his throat.

I rushed toward the shifter's back, my heart in my throat. I wasn't going to make it; the shifter was going to kill Dean and I would be left with the death of yet another family member. One I hadn't even gotten to know very well yet. Not to mention how  
destroyed Sam would be, if even _he_ was still alive. Sam and Dean were as close as Adam and I ever were; probably even more so due to the fact of experiencing together some extreme lows so spectacular that it's a miracle they were even able to  
wade through to the other side in one piece. This thought spurred me on until I was right behind the monster.

Before I could even raise my arm in order to stab through the shifter's heart, he stumbled back as if he were hit in the head with something very heavy. I stepped back to avoid getting trampled and glanced towards Dean. He was just as confused as I was.  
I could tell he hasn't raised a hand toward the shifter that would result in the pain that lanced across the creature's face in that moment.

The shifter lurched away from us, and his look of pain faded into one of confusion...and fear.

"W-what's happening?" He almost whimpered. It hurt to watch, considering he looked exactly like Sam. He suddenly jerked his head to the side and fixed his eyes on the wall next to him, as if something caught his attention, "Who are y-you?" He whispered,  
and yet another chill went up my spine.

 _What is happening?_ I wondered internally, just as Shifter-Sam had done out loud. I dragged my eyes away from the distressed shifter and towards Dean. I expected to see some of the confusion from my face and the shifter's reflected onto his, but  
what I saw was a look of anger and knowing.

Dean stepped forward, "Do you know who you're seeing right now? Who my brother is tortured by everyday? It's the devil, and right about now I'm betting you're seeing a whole lot of him."

I realized then what was happening. Whatever crap Sam has going on in his head that he had neglected to tell me about had been transferred onto the shifter. And by the look of it, the craziness that Sam was dealing with was astronomical, to the point  
where it was painful to watch; even though I knew it wasn't really Sam I was watching have his break down.

Shifter-Sam shook his head like a dog, as if trying to through off the obvious hallucinations that were bombarding him.

"How is he able to live like this?"

"He's a Winchester. That question doesn't need answering," Dean said spitefully, and in a way that caused me to believe his statement ran a lot deeper than he was letting on.

Dean nodded over to me and held out his hand. I had forgotten that I still held the peculiar knife within my grip. Slowly, I raised it toward him and he took it from me and began toward Sam's impersonator. I could see his knuckles were white on the hand  
he held the knife with and his gait was almost reluctant as he approached the shifter. Though the shifter looked exactly like Sam, I knew Dean was the best candidate to take him down. I doubted Dean would be able to stand by while I did the deed,  
and he deserved to avenge his brother; who was hopefully only unconscious lying on the floor.

The shifter barely put up a fight as Dean stepped up to him, too imprisoned within the throes of his second-hand hallucinations.

Dean kept his head down and averted from the gaze of Shifter-Sam as he plunged the knife into the creature's heart, more than likely reluctant to see the pain that swept onto the features that looked so much like Sam's.

The shifter fell with a thump; the knife still impaled through his heart. Before I could ask any questions that had to do with why that particular knife worked when putting the shifter down, Dean was already making his way over to Sam.

With one last look at the dead shifter, I made my way over towards where Sam lay and Dean leaned over him. Sam looked awful. His face was deathly pale and dark circles surrounded his eyes. Dark and partially dried blood coated his features from where  
the shifter gave him a beating, making him even more pale by contrast. The bruises on his neck were twice as prominent now, standing out starkly with his almost white skin.

With my heart racing in anxiety, I glanced at Dean. He was almost as pallid as his brother, and I could see the worry and fear radiating off of him as he felt for Sam's pulse. I held my breath in anticipation. I didn't know what to do or what would happen  
if Sam wasn't alive. I only knew it would be awful and utter hell for Dean.

Slowly, some of the color returned to Dean's features as relief found its way onto his face.

"There's a pulse, thank God," Dean muttered, more to himself than to me.

He ran a hand over his face and I saw the tension drain from his body as he gently started to shake Sam on his shoulder.

When there was no response, he finally looked up at me and I wasn't all that surprised to see his eyes were red rimmed and teary.

"I would ask what happened to him but I think I already know," he said, gesturing towards the bruises on Sam's neck.

I nodded and sat on the other side of Sam. I rested the back of my hand against his forehead; he was cold.

Once I removed my hand I said guiltily, "I'm sorry Dean; there was nothing I could do. By the time I made it back in the house after getting Garth out, the shifter had already attacked and..."

"You don't need to apologize, Marie. It wasn't your fault."

I was about to respond, but Sam shifted between us.

"Sammy?" Dean muttered, shaking his brother's shoulder more vigorously. Sam's eyebrows knitted together, as if he was finding it very difficult to dig himself out of the depths of unconsciousness.

"Come on man, we need you here in the real world," Dean said poignantly.

Sam groaned once before coming to complete awareness and bolting straight up into a sitting position. His eyes were flitting around in terror, unable to focus on anything except the non-existent scenes that were without a doubt playing before his eyes.

He looked tense and ready to spring so Dean and I each grabbed a hold of his shoulders to keep him in place.

"Sam. Talk to me; what are you seeing?" Dean demanded.

Sam glanced toward his brother and was about to respond, but grimaced and but his head in his hands. His eyes closed.

"I can't- Dean, i-it's too horrible. We just have to get out of here. He's coming," Sam said, his voice ragged and barely audible.

"Who is, Sam?" I asked as calmly as I could.

He looked me straight in the eye and said the name I had already known. The person who seemed to be the source of all our problems: Adam.

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! Another chapter down:) things are heating up pretty quick, and we still got a lot more to go; so hold on tight!**

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 **Thanks again for the support and reviews!:D**


	15. 15 A Real Nightmare

•{ **SAM** }•

* * *

 _My fist was raised to strike my brother once again. I fought from within, trying to relinquish the hold Lucifer had on my actions knowing there was nothing I could do, nothing I could attempt to regain control. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs -fight tooth and nail against the imposing presence that threatened to make my head explode. But my attempts were futile, and my fist came down once again and connected with Dean's face._

 __

 __

 _Dean's head snapped to the side, a bloody gash appearing just above his left eyebrow. Again, with all the will power I possessed, I fought against Lucifer's hold; again, it was useless. My fist was raised unwillingly once more as Dean's shaking hand came up and clasped my arm._

 __

 _"I'm not gonna leave you," he rasped in a broken voice._

 __

 _I knew I was dreaming -with a nagging feeling that I needed to wake up_ now _\- but his words still had the same impact on me as they did when he'd spoken them in real time that day in the cemetery._

 __

 _I felt my fist clench, preparing to let fly another punch, despite my desperate attempts to force my hand to drop and to regain control._

 __

 _Then, unexpectedly, the sun glinted off the side of the Impala in which Dean was leaning against. It drew my attention towards the interior of the car, and towards a toy army man that was stuck within an ashtray. Instantly, the memory of Dean and I stuffing the ashtrays and air vents with army men and Lego blocks when we were kids flooded my mind. Everything else seemed to cease to exist. A jolt shot through me as memories of the past five years flooded my head; all consisting of Dean and I on the road fighting the good fight, through thick and thin, together._

 __

 _These memories served as sledgehammer that demolished Lucifer's unbreakable hold on my mind and body. I gasped as I was able to relax my fist of my own free will and stumble away from my bleeding brother. Even though I had command over my my actions once again, Lucifer's presence was still unbearable in my head. I could feel the devil fighting to get free, to regain control -anything- because in that moment he knew he was beat._

 __

 _I took several shallow breaths while my heart raced and the scent of the dead grass of Stull Cemetery pervaded my nose. I remembered what I needed to do._

 __

 _I looked back at my big brother. He was slumped on the ground now, his face cut and bleeding from the damage my knuckles caused._

 __

 _Short of breath and fighting with everything I had to remain in control, the only words that I was able to say to him were, "It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him."_

 __

 _All these years, it had always been Dean saying things were going to be okay, and now it was my turn. I had to reassure my brother; I wanted to be there for him because he was always there for me when I needed him. The job had always fallen to him to pick up the destroyed pieces of our lives and put them back together. Now, that job has fallen to me. It was my turn to provide him with a sense of peace, because I knew that what was going to come after this was not going to be pleasant for either of us._

 __

 _Through his swollen and bruised eyes, Dean gave me a look that I would always remember. It was a mixture of fear, sadness, and heartbreak. But underneath that was an emotion that I knew would accompany me into that dark pit with the devil in tow. It was the same expression Dean would give me when we finished a hunt together or when I managed to hustle a game of pool and come out with a couple hundred bucks. In each of these scenarios, my big brother always looked at me with pride. Only this time it was amplified by a thousand degrees._

 __

 _With these memories of my brother keeping be grounded in my body and mind, I stuck a trembling hand into my jeans pocket and pulled out my one way ticket to hell. The four horseman's rings were heavy in my hand, and I couldn't help but remember all that we went through to acquire them; how much time it took to hunt all those bastards down and steal their rings. Finally the time has come to put these things to good use, and trap the devil back in his cage once and for all._

 __

 _I tossed the rings down on the grass away from the Impala and spoke the incantation through rapid breaths._

 __

"Bvtmon tabges babalon."  
 _  
_

 _Immediately, the wind picked up into a harrying force and a hole opened under the rings, almost as if the rings had suddenly gained a million pounds. A gaping portal could be seen; sucking air in like the empty space of a vacuum._

 __

 _With one more glance at Dean, I summoned the rest of my strength and clamped down on the havoc Lucifer was trying to inflict within my mind. I steadily backed my way towards the hole with my heart pounding in my chest. As much as I hated to admit it, I was scared. I didn't know what was to come after I jumped in the hole; only that I would spend the rest of eternity in hell. My fear didn't stop me though, because I knew what I was sacrificing myself for and the good that would come of it. I knew that my sacrifice would keep Dean out of harm's way and alive, along with everyone else on the planet._

 __

 _As I prepared myself to jump in the hole, something odd happened. Something I know did not correlate with what actually transpired in the cemetery that day._

 __

 _Everything froze._

 __

 _The trees ceased to sway in the forceful wind, the air itself seeming to freeze. I turned around to look back at Dean, and he was also still. It was as if I were transported into a photograph. I couldn't feel Lucifer in my mind anymore, so I was reprieved from the onslaught of the metaphorical kicks and punches the devil had been keen on giving me inside my head. The hole in the ground was still there, but I was hesitant to take another step towards it._

 __

 _Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement. For the first time while in this dream, I noticed Adam. He was walking forward with a leisurely step, arms down by his side._

 __

 _"Nice to see you again, Sam," he said with a casual smile, as if we just bumped into each other in a convenience store._

 __

 _"Why am I dreaming about this?" I asked, my voice steady. I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries._

 __

 _Adam tilted his head, as if he were pondering an important psychological question._

 __

 _"Are you real?" I demanded when he didn't answer, hoping this was just some hallucination-induced fever dream._

 __

 _"That depends on if you take my next words seriously," Adam said, seeming to break away from his deep thoughts. "I would, because my threats are not to be mistaken for fictional."_

 __

 _Going with my instinct, I chose not to take this situation lightly._

 __

 _"Is that why you brought me here? To threaten me?"_

 __

 _Adam let a small smile appear on his face, "Something like that. I just wanted to let you and Dean know that I am not going to stop. Like I said, I may have been given orders from down under, but I would have taken every opportunity to do what I'm doing now."_

 __

 _I scoffed. Being forced to relive one of the worse days of my life just so Adam could make a point wasn't something I was willing to put up with._

 __

 _I shifted my stance and let slip some of my annoyance as I spoke, "Right, and I assume what you are doing now is making our lives as complicated as you possibly can. Well here's a newsflash for you:_ we've been through worse _. What could you possibly do to us that we haven't experienced at least ten times over?"_

 __

 _Adam took a step back as he feigned a hurt expression, "Who said anything about me coming after you personally? No, at least for the time being, I'll be going after everyone you and your brother has ever known or cared about. I'll make them experience everything that I went through as a result of being pulled into hell, and you and I both know just how...unpleasant that can turn out to be. You don't believe me? When you wake up, ask Garth just how much fun it was to be beat into the ground by the Alpha Shapeshifter. That's just a small taste of what's to come."_

 __

 _I unintentionally took a step back, "You sent the shifter?"_

 __

 _Adam gave a couple slow claps before saying condescendingly, "Good job, Sam, you finally figured it out! And that shifter won't even be the worse of it. I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeve that I'm dying to try out."_

 __

 _I felt my face go slightly pale. If Adam could send an Alpha after us, what else was was he able to do? Knowing he wasn't going to give me a direct answer, I decided to beat around the bush._

 __

 _"How are you here, Adam? How are you able to high jack my dreams?"_

 __

 _Adam gave me an almost puzzled look. "That's an odd question, especially just after what we've been talking about."_

 __

 _"Just answer it."_

 __

 _"I already have; back at the bar when Dean tried to exorcise me. I'm not the average demon, Sam. I highly doubt you've seen anything like me before; I'm a whole new species."_

 __

 _"What does that mean?" I pried, my annoyance flaring._

 __

 _Adam crossed his arms with a look of amusement, "What's the saying? 'It's for me to know and you to find out.'"_

 __

 _Knowing that I wasn't going to get any more information out of him, I decided to change the subject to another matter._

 __

 _"You never answered my first question: Why am I dreaming about this?"_

 __

 _Adam gave me an exasperated look, "Oh, come on. I would at least think this choice of scenery would be obvious."_

 __

 _I shook my head._

 __

 _Adam sighed, "I remember everything, Sam. This whole shebang," Adam said, gesturing toward the headstones and the huge hole._

 __

 _"What do you mean?"_

 __

 _"My God, you ask so many questions. And I thought you were the smart one!" Adam exclaimed. "You think I was happily locked away in my head while this was all happening? You think Michael was any less merciless than Lucifer was to you when he took control of my body? Just like you, I remember fighting with everything I had to regain control, to rid myself of the angel who insisted on using me as a meat puppet. And just like you, I remember falling into that pit."_

 __

 _I felt my shoulders slump with guilt. It wasn't enough that Adam spent an eternity in hell -he was forced to experience that horrible feeling of falling into the pit; the temperature becoming so cold and hot at the same time, the ashes that were breathed in and plastered to the skin._

 __

 _"Look Adam, I'm sorry that this happened to you. Hell, I'm sorry that we're even related; if we hadn't been half-brothers, none of this-"_

 __

 _"That's not even the worst of it."_

 __

 _Adam crossed his arms over his chest and took a few steps forward. Though my heart beat faster with anticipation; I didn't move a muscle. I wasn't sure what he was referring to when he said being possessed by an angel wasn't the worst part, because I'm pretty sure there was a fair amount of incidents following our swan dive into the pit that qualify as being far, far worse._

 __

 _"I remember you pulling me in," he said._

 __

 _I felt my face cloud with confusion, "What are you talk-"_

 __

 _"Don't act like you don't remember! You grabbed a hold of me just when Michael decided to pull you away from the edge of the pit, and we both fell in."_

 __

 _"I had no choice. Lucifer and Michael were going to destroy the world, Adam!"_

 __

 _Then, inexplicably, Adam's face seemed to fall with tiredness. It was the first time I had seen him express an emotion that wasn't out right anger. With a start, I realized his appearance reminded me of the state we found Marie in when she just found out her family had been killed._

 __

 _"Maybe so," he said, "But I couldn't care less about the world nowadays. I am a demon after all. All I care about now is getting the revenge I deserve."_

 __

 _And just like that, the tired look was gone, replaced with a very vexed expression._

 __

 _"I think it's time you woke up. But before I let you go, I want to give you something. Call it a...temporary gift of sorts; a calm before the storm. Though I'm not going to bother telling you what it is, since you won't remember any of this when you wake up."_

 __

 _"Then why tell me at all?" I fumed._

 __

 _"Good question. You'll remember eventually, you just gotta wait until I'm able to put my plan into action."_

 __

 _"What plan?"_

 __

 _Adam smiled._

 __

 _"I meant what I said: I am coming after everyone you and Dean cared about. And don't think this threat doesn't extend to Marie as well. Ask her about what she did while she was in Florida. I bet you'll get the real reason she hasn't come back for almost three years."_

 __

 _Before I could begin to question what Adam meant, he disappeared. As soon as he was gone, I felt more than saw my world collapse around me and shatter into a million pieces._

* * *

The first thing I was aware of was the pain. It stabbed through my entire body, but seemed especially concentrated on my neck and face. Every shallow breath I took felt like I was trying to inhale scorching water. I tried to turn my head to the side,  
and my neck screamed in protest.

"Sammy?" I heard someone say. I felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder and I forced myself not to pull away when I realized it was Dean. Flashes of what happened before the moment I blacked out flew across my mind, and I remember Dean's hands -no, the  
shapeshifter's hands- clasped around my throat, choking me to death. While I was still trying to wrap my addled mind around the idea that a shapeshifter had impersonated Dean and tried to kill me, I heard Dean -the real Dean- trying to bring me out  
of my stupor.

"Come on man, we need you here in the real world."

Finally, the fog that clouded my brain receded and I was left with a throbbing headache that was so prominent that I couldn't hold back the groan that escaped from my mouth. Almost immediately, as soon as I came back to full consciousness, I was met with  
a thousand voices at once that converged into one solitary speaker that insisted upon being in the forefront of my mind.

 _"Good morning, Sammy,"_ Lucifer said.

I opened my eyes and sat straight up, and when I glanced at my surroundings, I couldn't help but wish I was still knocked out. I was sitting in hell; the walls of the cell I was in were stained with blood and meat hooks hung from the ceiling. The air  
itself seemed to be tinted with a red hue and when I looked closer at the hooks dangling from the ceiling, I noticed they were not devoid of patches of bloody flesh. The whole place smelt like rotting meat and fear. Out behind the bars of the cell  
is where I saw Lucifer standing. He gave me a menacing smile as screams and yells could be heard from the hallway behind him.

Unable to take sitting there any longer, I readied myself to jump up to my feet and take my adversary head on. Before I could make any attempt in doing so, I felt two sets of hands grabbing me by the shoulders and holding me in place.

"Sam, talk to me; what are you seeing?" I heard Dean say earnestly.

I looked to my left and saw his concerned face, but Dean's features resembled that of a decaying skull. I felt bile rise in my already sore throat and I put my head in my hands.

"I can't- Dean i-it's too horrible," I said, my voice barely able to be heard. Then, out of nowhere, a feeling of dread over came me. With my voice hitching and faltering in odd places I whispered, "We just have to get out of here. He's coming."

"Who is, Sam?" Marie asked in a quiet voice. Her face appeared to be normal and it soon gained an expression of realization when I looked her straight in the eyes. She already knew without needing to ask.

Glancing around, I realized with relief that the hallucination seemed to have faded. I felt my heart rate slow, but my body didn't relax in the slightest. Looking between Dean and Marie, I had a feeling that soon we were going to have much more trouble  
to deal with than just my fragile mental state.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! I updated early, yay! I feel particularly proud of this chapter because it was such a challenge to write and I think I did it pretty well. It was hard writing the Swan Song scene, particularly because I really wanted to give it the justice it deserves and really try to interpret what Sam was going through and put it down on paper.**

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 **On another note, I would really love to hear what your thoughts are on the story as a whole. I promise I won't spontaneously combust at any constructive criticism;)**

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 **Once again, I'm thankful for the favorites, comments, and reviews! You guys are awesome!**


	16. 16 Pulse

• **DEAN** •

Baby rumbled down the highway; her constant and familiar growl were the only comfort I found in light of our current predicament. Rain pummeled the windshield, finally fulfilling the promise of the storm we'd seen signs of earlier. I brought my gaze up  
to the rearview mirror as I kept my hands firmly on the wheel. The sight that welcomed me brought my heart stutter in my chest. I clutched the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned a stark white.

Sammy was not doing good.

He was slumped in the back seat; his large frame awkwardly bent so that he could fit. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the car door. The dried blood that once coated his face was gone, replaced by bruises that hurt to look at.  
The bruises around his neck only seemed to become darker and darker the longer Sam stayed in his stupor. As of the last time I peeked into the rearview mirror he'd been somewhat awake, but now his eyes were firmly closed.

"How's he doing, Marie?" I asked, trying to not let slip the panic I knew resided in my voice. Marie was in the back seat as well, keeping an eye on Sam. When I said this, she gave me a look before reaching up and putting two fingers against Sam's neck,  
checking for a pulse. My own pulse hammered in my veins as I waited for an answer. Finally, Marie dropped her hand and gave me a reassuring smile that still held a trace of worry.

"There's a pulse, Dean. It's slow and steady too. I don't know what happened to him, but I think he's just sleeping now."

That would have been reassuring in its own right, but with Sam, things were never that cut and dry or that easy. It was twice now that his pulse had been checked within the last three hours. I swear this kid was gonna be the death of me...again.

Back at the abandoned house he seemed fine; he was fully recovered from what ever hallucinations had been flaying his mind. It wasn't until after we bid Garth a safe and shifter-free farewell and were making our way back to the Impala when it all hit  
the fan. No sooner had Sam lain a hand on the passenger door handle than he suddenly collapsed to the ground. I ran to his side with Marie right on my tail and found that he was on the edge of unconsciousness. After failing to wake him completely,  
we quickly lost any hope that we were going to get his help in getting him in the car. Painfully and awkwardly, we maneuvered him so that he was somewhat situated comfortably within the backseat. We decided our next plan of action would be to find  
a secure place to hunker down and figure out what the hell was going on.

"How far is the motel?" Marie asked.

"Not far," I answered, readjusting myself in the seat. While we'd only been in the car for an hour, driving nonstop with my brother constantly teetering between being slightly cognizant and being completely wiped out made it feel like ten.

I knew it would be a bad idea to go back to our old no-tell motel with the threat of Adam on our ass, so Marie and I came up with the idea to change venues. The motel in question was one we passed heading towards the outskirts of town to Garth's aid.  
Not to mention, a decent place to wash up wouldn't be half bad either. I could feel the blood and grime from my tussle with the shapeshifter drying against my skin and my t-shirt; chafing in areas I didn't even know could chafe.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I started in my seat when I heard a groan emanating from Sam's direction. I quickly took control of the wheel again as my heart hammered with an odd mixture of both relief and anxiety.

"Sammy? How you doin' back there?"

"What happened?" He questioned in lieu of an answer. His voice sounded like he'd just woken up from a coma, groggy and slurred.

"You passed out," whispered Marie, barely loud enough for me to hear. I chanced a look into the rearview mirror again and glimpsed my brother's confused look in Marie's direction. Even through the small mirror, I noticed his unfocused countenance and  
the way he still slumped against the door as if it would take a huge amount of effort to lift himself up. It didn't take a genius to know that whatever happened to Sam took its toll, and I didn't think we were out of the woods yet.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you took a nose-dive in the dirt right when we were about to leave. What happened, man?"

"I-I don't remember, really. It was like one moment I was walking to the car and the next I was just sitting here."

"Well you scared the crap out of us," said Marie, more worried than angered.

"I'm sorry," was all Sam said as we pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

The rain was letting up now, revealing a grey and misty sky. the motel itself was dilapidated and barely looked like it belonged in this century. While Marie went to go and check us into the motel, Sam and I handled the bags. I tried to discourage him  
from helping, but being the stubborn turd he was, he insisted on grabbing the remaining duffle and flinging it over his shoulder in a show of just how fine he was. It would have worked, if the duffle's sudden weight hadn't almost pulled him down on  
his ass. I had to reach out a hand to keep him from toppling to the ground.

"What's going on with you, Sam?" I asked once I was positive he could stay on his feet without the support of my hand under his arm. Even then, he still swayed to the side. Sam shrugged off my arm and leaned against the front of Baby. His entire demeanor  
resembled a marathon runner who'd fallen down one too many times before they reached the finish line.

"I don't know. Ever since I woke up, I've been feeling extremely tired- more so than usual. And I keep on thinking I'm forgetting something, like it's stuck in the back of my mind."

"Huh. You don't think it has anything to do with your- you know..." I gestured towards his head, hoping against hope that I was wrong.

Sam shook his head and crossed his arms, clearly struggling to find his words. "That's another thing. I don't know how to describe it, but ever since I woke up I've felt...I don't know...relieved? Like the part of my soul that was hammered by the craziness...  
it's like it's finally getting rest. If that makes sense?"

I nodded my head slowly, adverting my eyes, trying to suppress the spark of hope that wanted to ignite in my chest.

 _Things were never that cut and dry or that easy._

But if what Sam said was true...

"So, do you think you're...cured?" I couldn't come up with a better name for it.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, "I don't want to jump to any conclusions yet. Or have false hope. I still can't shake that feeling like I'm forgetting something, and I'd be lying if I said that feeling didn't have anything to do with whatever's happening  
in my head."

I was about to say something else, but Marie approached us with the motel room keys in her hand. As far as I knew Marie was still at least partly in the dark about Sam's hallucinations, but I felt like that wouldn't last for long considering what went  
down in the abandoned house. It wouldn't be long before she started asking questions again.

The motel room was actually pretty nice; at least better than what I'd expected from the exterior. The walls and ceiling were stained suspiciously, but those details were lost to me when I noticed two full beds and a comfortable looking pull-out couch.  
As long as the room was inhabitable, I was aces.

I immediately claimed the couch before Marie or Sam could fight me on it. I preferred the couch anyway, since it sat almost directly by the door. Sam rolled his eyes at me as he passed, making his way to one of the beds. He slumped onto it and yawned  
while Marie set her stuff on the remaining bed.

Once I claimed the couch fully as my own, I made my way into the bathroom to attempt to scrub off the dirt and remaining blood from my body, knowing I was doing all of us a favor.

 _You smell like a toilet._

I smirked to myself as Sam's words rose up in my mind causing a faint sense of déjà vu. Turning on the shower faucet, I was thankful that the water actually came out warm; unlike other motels Sam and I often blew through. The mud came off easily enough;  
it only took warm water and a wash cloth to clean most of it. The dried blood was a bit trickier. It gathered in my hairline and around the edges of my nose. It took the cheap bar soap and steady scrub of the wash cloth to get it all off. I cursed  
the shapeshifter as the cloth irritated the bruises that covered my face. I couldn't believe I let it get the jump on me. I tried to tell myself that it was because it was an Alpha that it was able to get the best of me. But in reality, it had been  
all that was happening with Adam tacked on with the already present stress Sam's hallucinations inflicted that caused me to be distracted and not recognize the pretty brunette for what she was. By then it was to late; I was face down, robbed, and  
partially unconscious on the muddy ground as Baby's tires kicked up mud into my face. I had to admit it wasn't one of my proudest moments, and definitely one I would keep quiet at all costs for fear of the type of ammo I would be giving Sam and potentially  
Marie.

I still wasn't sure how to act around my half-sister. I didn't know what jokes to hold back on or what things I should or shouldn't say around her. I didn't know how much more to reveal about me and Sam's past; there was just so much more that I knew  
would send her running for the hills. In all our explanations about the Apocalypse and what happened to her brother, we never went as far back as to who started it in the first place. It never seemed appropriate given Marie's distress about finally  
finding out what happened to her brother. Telling her that what was once the end of the world was catalyzed by Sam, Cas, and I would have crumbled any sense of relationship Sam and I could have forged with her. Though something told me that her eyes  
would be opened soon enough.

Once I was sure that all of the dirt and grime was completely gone, I stepped out of the shower and dried off. Once I finished, I scrutinized my face in the mirror. I could practically see the throbbing the bruises made in the reflection; each visible  
throb accentuated by the rhythmic pounding in my head. I knew Sam was feeling the same way, probably even worse. I worried about the kid; the crap he's been through lately made my troubles look like a walk in the park. Sam's momentary reprieve from  
his hallucinations was the best thing that happened to us since getting his soul back in the first place. But Sam and I weren't idiots; we know what happens when we stumble upon a dose of good luck, and it usually ends with a lot more blood, sweat,  
and tears than what we started out with. It was practically the Winchester family curse, right on the pedestal with an uncanny ability to die on almost a yearly basis.

I just finished putting on a fresh t-shirt and jeans when I heard Marie's frantic voice calling my name through the hard metal of the bathroom door. Barefooted and hair sticking up in all directions, I threw open the door and grabbed the gun that lay  
on the T.V. stand and aimed it at the interior of the room before I could give my actions much thought. Like I needed any further proof that my nerves have been perpetually on edge as of late. It took me a moment to fully come to realization about  
what happened, and an even shorter one to put away my gun and rush to the bed that Sam was occupying.

I soaked in Marie's frantic voice calling Sam's name, shaking his shoulder vigorously and lightly tapping his cheek with her other hand. Sam appeared to be fully unconscious; he was resting on his back in an awkward position, as if he'd fallen on the  
bed rather than lying down himself. His hair that I had often told him to get cut was flopped out around his head creating a brown halo that I would be sure to make fun of later. But at the moment fear was the only thing that occupied my mind.

Marie, what the hell happened!?" I shouted as I planted myself on the opposite side of the bed. I immediately placed panicked fingers once again on Sam's neck while a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered, _three times now._ I pushed that thought  
away and sighed in relief when I felt the unhurried and steady thump against my two fingers, strong enough to slightly raise my hand with each beat. Satisfied that my little brother had a pulse, I moved my hand to rest against his chest and lowered  
and tilted my head until my ear rested just above his agape mouth. His slow-moving breaths hit the side of my face in small puffs while his chest rose and fell in cadence with them. The only thing that I heard that was slightly out of place was the  
small amount of congestion that could easily be stacked up to the changing seasons. Lifting my hand and head away from my brother, I ran both hands through my hair roughly, leaving it slicked back and my hands damp.

Wondering what was taking Marie so long to respond, I trailed my eyes up away from my brother and focused them on her. She was staring down at Sam with a faraway look in her eyes  
and my mind flashed back to the terse way I'd spoken to her just a moment ago; almost like I accused her for whatever just happened to Sam. I let out out a sigh at my own stupidity. I didn't even realize my tone came out accusatory until after I had spoken,  
and then I didn't bother correcting myself because I was too swept up in my panic for Sam.

Assured that Sam was just basically sleeping, I ran a hand across my mouth and let both of them fall down to my sides with palms up as an apologetic gesture.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"We were just talking...and he got real quiet. I asked him what was wrong but he didn't answer; he just collapsed backwards on the bed. That's when I started calling for you."

Marie gave no inclination that she was even taken aback at my supposed accusations, so instead of making nothing into something I followed her lead.

"Did he seem...off while you guys were talking?"

Marie scrunched her eyes in thought and slipped a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She looked at me through her glasses and said, "Just really tired."

Her expression fell into one of puzzlement and her next question was one I was constantly asking myself on a daily basis.

"Dean, what's going on?"

"I wish I knew."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! I would love to know what you think of this story so far, so please review and let me know! I'd love to hear from you:)**


	17. 17 As Time Passes

•~ **MARIE** ~•

The electronic clock was starting to annoy me; its flashing and obnoxious red tempo were the only movement and sound in the entire room, tapping out a constant beeping noise that demanded attention. Normally, the irritating noise wouldn't have bothered  
me -growing up with a twin brother who seemed to specialize in the art of grating on nerves would have been the source of my immunity- but it's incessant chirping and quick-moving numbers was a constant reminder of exactly how long Sam has been down  
and out.

At the moment the clock flashed 6:23 PM. That meant Sam had been fully unconscious for the better part of sixteen hours. Not only that, he also hasn't moved a single muscle since the moment he collapsed.

Since the moment Sam passed out, we've been constantly checking his pulse and feeling for a fever, but there was no indication anything happened to him besides falling into a deep sleep. On numerous accounts we've tried to wake him; trying everything  
from splashing cold water on his face to holding Dean's dirty shoe under his nose. All of these attempts either ended with Sam's frustrating silence or Dean cursing under his breath at either himself for not being able to wake his brother or at Sam  
for not getting his lazy ass out of bed.

As time passed and minutes turned into hours, Dean and I then eventually fell into an uneasy silence that was accented by the irate chiming of the motel clock.

Even though currently there was not a word spoken between Dean and I within the moldy motel room, the silent question that seemed to hang in the air was, _what the hell is going on with Sam?_ Though given Dean's stony and pensive expression while he  
sat on a hard plastic chair next to Sam's bed, I had a feeling that question was something he frequently had to ask himself. I shuddered when I recalled the memory of Sam's eyes slowly glazing over and then fully rolling up into his head. It was a  
memory I was sure not to forget anytime soon.

As the numbers on the clock kept flashing and beeping, it was obvious that Dean became more and more restless. It started as a nervous tick that sometimes ate at the edges of his eyes and made the worry lines around his mouth deepen. His agitation only  
became more plain when he started to quickly tap his foot in cadence with the clock; then progressed into obsessively running a hand through his hair and over his face.

Finally, in one quick flash of movement, he was out of his chair and around the edge of Sam's bed. He yanked the bedside table away from the wall and grasped the electric clock. He pulled until it became unplugged, leaving Dean standing there with a cheap  
motel clock in one hand. Without sparing a single glance my way, he proceeded to stalk across the room to where a trash can was waiting and promptly dumped the object into the bin without remorse. He stood with his back towards me; his hands on his  
hips and head tilted up to the ceiling. Tension was radiating off of his shoulders in waves and I could tell he was giving everything he had to compose himself.

Eventually, he turned around and faced me as I stood up from the couch I had been perched on for the last two hours.

Dean let out an exasperated huff, "Damn, that clock got on my last nerve." He chuckled humorously like he was trying to cover up his frustrated panic that I knew was just under the surface. Even though he tried to cover up what he was feeling, I could  
see it in his eyes that he was barely hanging on.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked hesitantly, taking a step forward. I avoided asking him if he was alright, because that answer was pretty obvious.

"What is there to talk about?" He muttered distractedly as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and pushed hard, as if trying to shove out his anxiety through the back of his head. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, and I waited  
patiently. Soon enough, he let his hands fall down to his sides.

"I think it'd be great if we got out for awhile. What d'you say?"He said, deftly changing the subject while glancing over the large figure of Sam peacefully laying on the bed. Even from here I could see Sam's steady and deep breaths. Dean looked back  
at me, "I swear if I have to stay in this crappy motel room for another minute I'm gonna punch a hole through the wall," he finished. By the look of his shaking hands and stiff shoulders, I felt that could be a very real possibility. Though I didn't  
think it had much to do with the nasty motel room as much as it had to do with Sam. I myself found it hard to look at Sam's healthy glow and steady breaths and not understand why he couldn't just _wake up._

"Alright," I affirmed, making up my mind, "Where do you want to go?"

Dean gave me a relieved look, "There's a mini-mart ten minutes away from here; I saw it on our way into town. I figured we could just pick up some snacks and bring them back here," he scratched the back of his head and added almost apologetically, "It  
doesn't sit right for me to leave him for a long time while he's..." he gestured vaguely in the direction of Sam.

I nodded my head, "Don't worry. I get it."

Dean nodded his head wearily, moving to the table by the door and picking up his car keys. He slipped on his jacket and opened the motel door. I followed him and almost ran into his back when he stopped suddenly. He turned around and moved past me to  
the nightstand that sat snugly between the two beds and picked up a notepad with the motel's logo on it. He hastily scribbled something down, and left the yellow notepad in plain sight.

"Just in case he wakes up," Dean explained as he turned around and left the room without looking back. I stared after his retreating figure. There was no denying the hope in Dean's voice. 

* * *

**Hello! Sorry this one was so short. This was a weird in between chapter that I thought was necessary to include. Please let me know what you think!:)**


	18. 18 Distractions

•~ **MARIE** ~•

The ride to the mini-mart was quiet. Not a word was spoken between Dean and I as the Impala made its slow stop-and-go journey through the numerous traffic lights. Every time we were able to pick up speed, a yellow light would compel us to slow to a crawl  
before halting us completely once the light turned red. Dean let out out an irritated huff every time we were forced to stop. I could tell he was aggravated by every moment we spent away from the the motel and Sam's prone body; a sitting duck for  
anyone who happened by.

It took us a total of fifteen minutes to get to the convenience store, and when we walked in we saw that every isle was empty save for the cashier who was stocking one of the shelves with an assortment of candy bars. As soon as the bell chimed when we  
entered the store, she looked up from her task and let her gaze slide across me and focus wholeheartedly on Dean. Once we were fully into the middle of the store, she straightened up and brushed her clothes off, walking towards us and fixing her dark  
hair like she was getting ready for a photo shoot.

I turned to Dean and was about to make a comment under my breath, but he was already making his way to the drinks isle at the back of the store. The cashier stopped when Dean brushed passed her, not even giving her a glance. The girl and I stood and stared  
at each other for an awkward moment before I gave an apologetic smile and hurried after him.

When I met up with Dean again, he was carefully extracting a case of beer from the precariously stacked freezer.

"It seems you have a fan," I murmured once he turned around. Dean glanced over my shoulder distractedly, not even letting his gaze linger on the cashier for more than a moment before returning his eyes to me. He stared at me for a few seconds as if he  
didn't understand the words that had just come out of my mouth.

"...What?" He asked bewilderingly.

I just rolled my eyes and walked over to the snacks section. Dean did not strike me as a guy who wouldn't take notice when a girl was hitting on him. I had at least expected him to acknowledge the girl's presence, or have some kind of smug smirk.

The cashier met us again at the counter, all but jumping at the chance to ring up our case of beer, four bags of chips, and large pecan pie. Dean had also made sure to grab few healthy items, stating that he didn't want to give Sam something else to have  
a fainting spell over: the idea of being stuck in a motel without an apple or granola bar in sight. Dean slid the items on the counter and fished out his wallet for extra cash. As he did this, the cashier kept her eyes glued to Dean's face;  
almost to the point were it became a little creepy. Once everything was paid for, she asked if he would like the receipt. She had overtly written her number on it, and I almost outwardly cringed when Dean brought his gaze from the girl's out stretched  
hand to her hopeful face and shook his head. He turned and left without a glance back.

"Your loss," she whispered indignantly. Again, I gave her another apologetic smile before following my half-brother out the door.

* * *

The moon had made a full appearance by the time we left the mini-mart and slid into the front seats of the Impala. We were out of the parking lot and peeling onto the street before the light onto the road could turn red again.

It felt weird sitting in the passenger seat next to Dean, knowing that this was usually where Sam would sit on a normal day. I almost felt like an intruder on some sacred tradition and that kept me from truly relaxing into the seat. But gradually, I became  
more comfortable as I focused my attention on Dean and his odd behavior.

"I think you broke that girl's heart back there, Dean," I mused teasingly, keeping my eyes trained on him so I could gauge his reaction.

Dean glanced at me questioningly before turning his gaze back to the road.

"Come again?" He asked, even though we both knew full well what I was talking about.

"You turned that girl down like it was nothing. What happened? I thought you were a lady's man."

Dean let out a humorless chuckle that resonated throughout the Impala and settled with the newfound tension that suddenly rested between us.

"Not with everything that's been going on lately with Sam and Adam... I just don't have the time to get... involved, you know? Plus..." He trailed off, obviously thinking better of whatever he was going to say.

I decided to take a chance. "Do you already got a girl?"

Dean was quiet for a moment.

"Not anymore," he eventually stated with a note of finality. But, knowing me, I had trouble with letting sleeping dogs lie.

"What happened?"

Dean didn't answer. He looked as if he were caught in a trap, and I felt bad for pestering him. He obviously didn't want to talk about it, and whatever it was it looked like it caused him a lot of pain. I had begun to believe he wasn't going to answer  
and the awkwardness of an ignored question was going to sit with us until we reached the motel, but soon a look of resolve filtered onto Dean's face and he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"She got hurt. Her and her son. It was my fault; I should have known trying to balance an apple pie life and hunting was going to backfire on me eventually. I was just too stupid to realize it."

I didn't say anything, taking in Dean's tense shoulders. Whatever I had expected him to say, it wasn't that. The thought of Dean living behind a white picket fence with a girlfriend and a kid was something I couldn't see in my mind's eye. He looked like  
the type that would be scratching at the walls in a place like that; the type of guy who would prefer one night stands and wide open roads - not domestic bliss.

Another piece of information stood out in my mind and I almost didn't want to ask my next question.

"Is she dead?"

It was a type of question that would seem in poor taste to unsuspecting ears that couldn't ever guess what it was like to be a hunter; risking your life day in and day out, knowing that the people whom you strive to save could very well end up dead anyway.

Dean tentatively slid a glance in my direction, and I again saw him warring with himself on whether to reveal what was obviously a painful subject to him. What happened to his girlfriend and her son must have been awful, and I was about to try and reassure  
him that whatever happened to them wasn't his fault -even though I didn't exactly know that- but before I could, he gave me an answer I didn't expect.

"No," he said, not giving any indication that he was going to explain further. He didn't look at me again and I didn't push the subject anymore because the countenance he had radiated sorrow. I couldn't find it within myself to force him to bring up memories  
he'd rather not shed light on.

Instead, after we lapsed into a few minutes of peaceful silence, I asked a question that was relatively safe and I'd been curious about ever since our incident at the abandoned house.

"Hey Dean, how come you were able to kill that shifter at the house when the knife you used wasn't silver?"

Dean's face flashed with puzzlement as if my abrupt change in subject took him off guard. He quickly recovered though, and his confusion transformed into relief at the easy question.

"The blade was made of iridium, which is capable of doing away with alpha monsters."

"Iridium?" I asked, "Isn't that like, extremely rare?"

Dean cleared his throat hesitantly. "Well, when you know the King of Hell, that stuff isn't so hard to get your hands on." Dean slid his gaze over to me and stumbled over his words a bit. "Our relationship with him is complicated... I-it's kind of hard  
to explain."

"...Right," I murmured as we came to a halt at a stoplight. I was quiet for a moment. Then, without knowing what possessed me to do it, I said, "Kind of like how Sam's hallucinations are hard to explain?"

It wasn't so much that I regretted saying it, it was the timing that I could have worked on a bit. We still didn't know what was going on with Sam -if his current state had something to do with his hallucinations or something else- but I could tell that  
the longer we stayed away from the motel the more worried Dean became. I was sure he wasn't in the mood to discuss his brother's mental state when he was currently lying unconscious on a grimy motel bed and we had no idea what the heck happened to  
him.

I looked at Dean and saw the same conflict in his eyes that was there earlier.

"It's fine, Dean. You don't have to-"

"No, you deserve to know the truth," he said, almost in a whisper.

The light turned green again and we continued on our way as Dean took a deep breath.

"After Death retrieved Sam's soul from hell, he or it -or whatever- erected a wall in Sam's mind. It was meant to keep Sammy's memories of hell at bay- help him not remember..."

Dean trailed off, and I sat patiently and waited for him to continue.

"Death warned me that the wall wasn't permanent," he started again. "That putting a soul so scarred by hell and Lucifer back into Sam's body was a bad idea at best - would be too much for him to handle, but I didn't listen." Dean paused and slid a glance  
in my direction as if trying to gauge my reaction. He looked guilty, and whatever expression he saw on my face caused him to become slightly defensive, "You didn't see him before. He was like freakin' Agent Smith from _The_ _Matrix_. He was  
a danger to everyone around him because he just didn't _care_. All that mattered to him was the end result, not the bodies that piled up along the way."

I shivered at the thought. Picturing Sam as an emotionless monster was jarring; completely opposite of the embedded mental image I had of the man who would risk his life for someone he barely knew in a heartbeat, and had no qualms about wearing his heart  
on his sleeve.

"I don't fault you, Dean, for what you did. In the end, I think anyone would have made the same choice."

But Dean shook his head, prepping himself for what he was about to say next. "The wall stayed up for a time despite a few close calls, but it didn't last for long. It eventually crumbled, and we almost lost him... What you're seeing of him today is what  
he fought to get to over several months, and you can see how damaged he is now."

I sat silently, taking in all the information. Never in my wildest dreams could I have guessed something of this magnitude could happen to someone and they still be alive and breathing. It once again reinforced my belief that the Winchesters were made  
of more sterner stuff than I could ever hope to inherit from their side of the family.

Dean loosened his death grip on the wheel a fraction and sighed as we pulled into the motel parking lot. "Believe it or not, what's going on with him right now, I knew it was coming; I knew the other shoe would drop eventually. But earlier, when he told  
me he felt better, I just thought..." he shook his head gently, "For a second I thought Sammy was gonna be okay, that we were gonna get off scott-free for once...or at least partially."

"I'm sure he'll be okay, Dean. Sam's strong, he'll make it through the slump he's in now. We just have to wait."

"I don't know how much more of this waiting game I can take," he muttered to himself as we pulled into a parking space and opened the doors. I doubted he meant for me to hear his comment, but I didn't say anything about it as we entered the room, snacks  
in hand.

As soon as we stepped fully into the room, I knew something was wrong. The lights were off, but even through the dark stale gloom I could tell that Sam's bed was empty. The bathroom door was slightly ajar; fluorescent light streaming out onto the thin  
concrete-like carpet. Hesitantly, I took a step towards that direction, but before I could fully reach the door Dean rushed around me and pulled it open. I couldn't see fully inside, but what Dean saw made his face turn slightly pale. He took a step  
into the bathroom and that's when I heard the horrible retching noise emanating from within. 

* * *

**Another chapter down! Phew! Please let me know what you thought; your comments will help me be motivated to keep writing this story and your constructive criticism will help me make the next chapter better!:)**

 ****

 **Thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed, favorited, and followed thus far. It really means a lot and keeps my confidence levels up!**

 ****

 **Just a reminder: this fic takes place in season 7, but it is mostly AU. In this story, Cas did not break the wall in Sam's mind. Instead, the breaking happened gradually on its own. Also, for those of you who are desperately waiting for Castiel's entrance- fear not! I have a specific plan for him. He will be showing up sooner or later...along with some other choice characters;)**


	19. 19 Problems

•~ **MARIE** ~•

The sight before me was not pleasant. I rocked on my feet in the doorway of the bathroom, keeping my distance as I observed Sam puking into the toilet that sat snugly between the shower and the small sink. He sat in front of it with his long legs folded  
underneath him, and his arms braced on both sides of the toilet seat. It was plain to see that he'd been sitting there a long time. Even as I watched, Sam heaved into the bowl again. I winced in sympathy as Dean knelt beside him, his hand lightly  
resting on Sam's back.

"Take your time, Sammy. Ain't nobody rushing you," Dean muttered gently, his voice barely audible from where I stood.

I teetered awkwardly in the background, unsure if I should rush in and help somehow. Once again the same feeling overcame me as it did when I sat in the shotgun seat in the Impala; it was as if I were looking in on something private, like I was an intruder  
and I didn't really belong here with them. Observing the care and attention that Dean gave during Sam's moment of weakness made me realize that I may never again have someone to care for me like they cared for each other. My brother was gone -living  
it up as some powerful know-all demon- and my mother and father were dead. The friends I'd come to know in Florida were ones I didn't know if I could face again.

"I'm fine," Sam groaned, snapping my thoughts back to the situation at hand.

"Yeah, you _look_ fine," Dean scoffed, sarcasm lacing his tone.

Despite the stubborn glare Sam shot in Dean's direction, I had to agree with what Dean was implying. Sam's face was pale and covered in a thin sheet of sweat that made his dark hair plaster to his forehead and to the back of his neck. When he looked up  
and shakily glanced between Dean and I, I noticed his eyes were red-rimmed. When he saw our concerned expressions his pallid face reddened with embarrassment. I glanced away as what little color that had graced his features drained away and he leaned  
over the toilet bowl again and vomited. In all honesty, the sound was harder to deal with than the sight was. Also, if I was being honest with myself, he had looked far more healthier when he was out cold than he did now.

It was painful to see my older half-brother like this.

"Hey, Marie, can you grab me a towel by the other sink?" Dean asked hastily as Sam pulled away from the toilet, looking determined to stand up without the support of his brother.

I nodded my head quickly and squeezed out of the doorway and picked up a clean white towel from the large sink that sat just outside the bathroom.

"Easy tiger. Don't over do it, alright?" Dean was saying as I walked back in the bathroom. He had his hands resting on both of Sam's shoulders, steadying him as he swayed.

Dean gave me a grateful smile as he took the towel from my hands and promptly started to wipe at Sam's mouth. Sam pulled away from him weakly, but Dean kept a firm grip on his shoulder to keep him from toppling over.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam protested again, finally able to extract himself from Dean's ministrations.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the Queen of England."

Sam shot Dean another glare as he pushed even farther away from him. Sam swayed a little bit and braced his hand against the wall. Dean shot his arm out to steady him but stopped and retracted it back so he could cross it with his other one across his  
chest.

"Okay, so then riddle me this: if you're so dandy, why are you puking your guts up and look like death warmed over?" Dean argued.

Sam brushed his hand through the air as if batting away Dean's question, still leaning himself against the wall. I moved further into the bathroom, finally deciding that I would be a part in this after all.

"I think I read somewhere once that vomiting can be a sign of severe exhaustion," I spoke up for the first time since this whole ordeal started.

Dean and Sam turned toward me. Sam's face once again turned splotchy with embarrassment, revealing what was most likely his discomfort in letting someone he just met see him in such a vulnerable state.

Dean took my words into consideration, pondering them for a moment before letting his face fall with confusion. "But Sam's been asleep for over sixteen hours. How could he still be tired?"

I shrugged my shoulders; I was no doctor.

"Just a theory," I said, then turned towards Sam, asking a question that I already knew the answer to. "Did you feel tired before you passed out?"

Sam glanced at Dean wearily before responding. "I mean, yeah, ever since..." he trailed off.

His hesitation brought on the memory of the conversation I had with Dean in the car.

"You think this has something to do with your hallucinations?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Sam's gaze shot back over to Dean questioningly, and Dean nodded his head. Sam suddenly looked like he was trapped.

"No -yes- I don't know. All I know is that they aren't...present anymore."

Mine and Dean's heads snapped in his direction in unison.

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Dean asked dubiously.

"It's like I said before, Dean- ever since waking up after I passed out next to the car, my hallucinations have... dissipated."

"Dissipated?"

Sam nodded his head, a spark in his eye that I had not seen before. It transformed his face into something else. For the first time I saw hope in Sam's eyes. I threw a glance over to Dean and saw the same expression sketched there.

"Maybe your sickness doesn't have anything to do with exhaustion. Maybe it has something to do with getting over your hallucinations," I said.

Dean nodded, but Sam didn't look convinced. He studied the ground for a long moment, his jaw muscle jumping as he contemplated my idea. Along with the hope I saw in his eyes, there was a sort of guarded veil that held the optimism in check. He didn't  
want to take stock in hope that could easily be taken away from him.

"That's not all though," Sam said, looking up and fixing his tired gaze on Dean and I. He took a deep breath before he continued, "I remember what I thought I'd forgotten. It was about Adam."

I sucked in a deep breath as Sam moved shakily out of the bathroom, keeping one hand against the wall the whole time. I threw a glance at Dean whose face mirrored both worry and confusion.

"Adam? Are you sure?" I asked as I followed him out into the living area, Dean right behind me. Sam was now moving about the room, gathering his things and stuffing them into a ragged green duffle bag. His face shown with a glow of determination I had  
not seen earlier. As Dean and I finished filling the empty space, Sam turned to us; still set on his mission to apparently stuff the entire room into his bag.

"Yes," he stated, his voice slightly frantic. "While I was unconscious at the house I had a dream...-well, it wasn't really a dream- but anyways, Adam was there, and he told me he gave me a gift of some sort- 'a calm before the storm' he called  
it-"

"Hold up for a second," Dean said, raising a hand. He seemed to have fully grasped the implications that Sam's words held at the exact same time that I did. "You think that Adam made your hallucinations go away as some sort of gift? That doesn't make  
any sense. If anything, he would have wanted to make them worse, not better."

"Your guess is as good as mine. All I can say is I'm not going to treat Adam's 'gift' as something to be celebrating over. Besides, we have bigger problems."

Sam paused his actions for a moment and looked at the both of us. "He said he was putting a plan into action. He didn't explain what it was but I have a feeling it has something to do with you, Marie," he said, looking me straight in the eye.

I tilted my head in confusion. Me? What could my brother possibly want with me? I mean, I wasn't exactly on his good side, but ever since I found out he was a demon I thought he couldn't care less about me anymore.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He said he was going to go after everyone we cared about, and he made it extremely clear that that threat extended to you too."

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. He couldn't possibly be talking about...?

"D-did he say anything else?"

"He said there was a real reason why you stayed down in Florida for almost three years."

I closed my eyes and swallowed my fear. I should have known that what happened in Florida would catch up to me. I should have known that Mason would have...

"What do you think you're doing, Sam?" I heard Dean's voice cut through my thoughts. I glanced up to see that Sam was no longer looking at me. He had resumed his packing throughout the room. Some of the color had returned to his face, but he still moved  
around on unsteady legs; sending an arm out against the wall or a dresser every once and a while to keep his balance. He stopped and stared at us after he finished placing a knife into his duffle along with holy water, a gun, and extra clothing.

"We can't stay here. Adam said he would wipe my memory of our meeting just long enough for him to put his plan into action. We need to act now."

"And do what, hm?" Dean argued, stretching out his arms. "We gonna just go out there guns blazing? What we need to do is sit down for a minute and figure out our next step."

"Since when do you care about making plans? I thought you were all _shoot first-ask questions later._ " Sam said, crossing his arms and listing to the side for a moment before deftly catching himself.

"Not when what we're dealing with is our demonic half-brother and all he wants to do is 'make our lives a living hell.' And especially not when you look like you're about to take another nose-dive into the ground at any moment."

"Dean, I don't know how may times I have to say it: I'm _fine_."

"Cut the crap, Sam," Dean ordered, heat edging into his voice. "You are not fine and you know it."

Sam rolled his eyes and I could tell he was about to argue against his brother's concern even further, but their growing disagreement was cut off by a sound that was the last thing we would have expected to hear.

The door bust open with a resounding crack, sending splinters across the motel floor. 

* * *

**Hello! I hope you enjoyed the chapter:) I will be taking another break from updating for awhile. I'm not sure when I will be updating again. My schedule has become very busy and I will not be able to write as much as I would like. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger! I will try to start updating again as soon as I can:)**


	20. 20 And he Shall Appear

•~ **MARIE** ~•

The first thing I noticed about the man standing in our doorway was that the hand holding the gun was shaking. The second thing was that he was wearing a gray hoodie that partially covered the top half of his face.

 _Not a very smart idea_ , I thought as my heart pounded with adrenaline. _He can't_ _really see anything_.

Apparently I was not the only one who thought this because in one quick flash of movement, Dean knocked the gun out of the man's hand and unceremoniously punched him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. Dean immediately grabbed him by the front  
of his hoodie, lifted him up, and pushed him back against the wall with a ferocity that I had only seen a few times before. He pressed against the man's neck with his forearm until the he let out a wheezing breath.

 _"Who are you?"_ Dean demanded.

The man let out an incomprehensible and strangled retort that forced Dean to relieve some of the pressure he was applying to the intruder's windpipe. Instantly, the man's lips curled into a cocky smirk.

A jolt shot through me as I recognized the upturned lips.

Before I could react and stop this situation from getting any worse, the man brought his knee harshly up between Dean's legs in an effort to free himself from the hunter's grip. It worked, and Dean stumbled away from the intruder with a grunt of pain.  
The man had little time to revel in gaining the upper hand because Sam immediately took his brother's place and grabbed him by the front of his hoodie. He practically threw the shorter man across the room where he stumbled against one of the unmade  
motel beds. Sam made a sweep for the gun and turned around with the weapon in hand just in time to aim it at the intruder who was about to instigate an attack from behind.

"Don't!" I yelled, not sure to whom exactly I was shouting the warning to.

Sam swayed for an instant before halting completely, but his gun never wavered from where he had it pointed at the intruder's heart. The man halted in his tracks and turned towards me. The smirk he once wore so proudly an instant ago fell from his mouth  
as if it were never there in the first place. During the action his hood had fallen surreptitiously from his head, revealing jet black hair, upturned eyes, and high cheekbones. His right jaw was beginning to swell up from the impact of Dean's fist.  
Yep, there was no doubt about it, I knew exactly who this man was.

Speak of the devil.

Mason took a step towards me but was halted by the sound of a click that resonated from his confiscated gun.

"Don't move," Sam ordered. The familiar intruder and I turned our head in Sam's direction where he had straightened his back and taken better aim. He still looked wobbly on his legs, but there was no mistaking where he had his gun pointed.

"Sam-" I began.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam cut me off, glancing over his shoulder for an instant before bringing his gaze back to our supposed intruder. Dean groaned as he stood up and limped his way over to his brother's side.

"I'll live," Dean stated in a hitched and raspy voice. He turned his attention toward Mason with a rather incredulous look on his reddened face. "Dude, why are your knees so sharp? If I were you, I would get those checked out. It's not natural."

"Why? Obviously they come in handy." Mason smirked, dropping his gaze to where Dean was obviously trying to resist the urge to cover himself. The pain was still evident in Dean's eyes, along with a burning hatred for the man who stood there mocking him.

With a slight tightening of the lips, Dean took a step closer to Mason while pulling a knife out from within his coat.

"Yeah? You want to know what else comes in handy?" He growled, the answer to his own question revealed as he brought up the knife into plain view. All three men in the room tensed simultaneously. Sam brought his gun higher to level it more accurately  
at Mason, giving his brother backup as Dean took forward another threatening step. I saw fear flash in Mason's eyes before it was eradicated by a veiled mask of cockiness I'd recognized plaster on his face so many times before. And just like a mask,  
I knew that expression was fake. It was ploy he used to intimidate his opponents whenever he knew he was outmatched; a last ditch effort to gain the upper ground. I had to stop this before things got out of hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I yelled, stepping in and pushing Dean's arm aside. He reluctantly let his arm fall, and I could practically sense Mason minutely relax behind me. Dean still stared over my shoulder, not letting his furious gaze drop from Mason. With  
much effort, I managed to push against Dean's chest until he was far enough away that the knife still in his hand wouldn't be able to reach Mason if he decided to go for a stab. Knowing Dean, I realized that that wasn't too much out of the ball park.

Once I was sure he was at a safe distance, I turned to meet Sam with a steady gaze. Anger burned in his eyes for the man who hurt and humiliated his brother, but he slowly let his hand with the gun drop to his side once he saw his brother do the same.

"Marie?" I heard the voice echo from behind me. I closed my eyes slowly, unwilling to accept the sudden predicament I found myself in.

Taking a deep breath and avoiding the looks of confusion I was receiving from both of the brothers, I turned to face the past I had so readily left behind in Florida.

"Mason," I said tentatively, crossing my arms across my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same." Mason let his suddenly wary eyes wander over Sam and Dean, his tense shoulders not relaxing an inch. I glanced back over my shoulder to discover that both brothers were staring down Mason as if daring him to make another move.  
I subtly shook my head and glared at them until they seemed to back down a bit. I turned my attention back towards Mason.

"Who are those guys?" He asked, avoiding the first question that had been asked.

Before Sam or Dean could say anything I said, "They're my brothers. Well, half-brothers." Dean made a sound of protest at this revealing of information but soon a thump and a yelp of pain indicated his foot had been stomped by Sam.

"Since when do you have half-brothers?" Mason exclaimed, always one to deviate from the real issue at hand.

"Look, it's not important alright? What I need to know is why you busted in here waving a gun like you were robbing a bank," I insisted.

Mason shuffled his feet and looked down at the ground, a look of apprehension crossing his boyish features. When he looked up, his eyes held a spark of panic and sadness I hadn't noticed before. His bravado was fading fast, replaced by barely contained  
fear.

"Can we...Do you mind if we talk in private?" He asked, letting his gaze roam once again between the two brothers that stood like stone gargoyales flanking me on either side. As soon as the words were out of Mason's mouth Sam and Dean tensed, and I had  
to mentally stop myself from turning and glaring at the both of them again.

I nodded my head and turned toward the brothers. "Guys, its fine. I know Mason from my time in Florida. We used to...hunt together. He can be trusted, I promise."

Sam and Dean both raised one eyebrow in unison and I forced myself not to roll my eyes. I swear, it seems like they practice these kinds of things. After a moment of standing my ground, it was Dean who backed down first. But what I had mistaken for an  
act of submission was actually him just taking a few steps over to an open duffle bag Sam had been in the process of packing up before Mason's grand entrance. Sam, Mason, and I watched as he pulled out a flask of holy water and a silver knife. As  
Dean turned back around Mason took a step back, and Dean gave a curt nod to Sam who immediately stode over to grasp Mason by the shoulder to prevent him from making any kind of escape.

"Dean, is this really necessary?" I complained, looking between Dean's hardened expression and Sam's blank one. I knew what was coming, and while I saw their reasoning behind it I didn't understand why they had to be so intimidating. Dean only gave me  
a reproachful glance in return before beginning his trek back across the room where Mason was trying unsuccessfully to escape Sam's strong and heavy grip.

"Wow, a little over protective, huh?" Mason jibbed just as Dean placed himself directly infront of him. Realizing there was nothing I could do to dampen Sam and Dean's distrustful instincts, I planted myself to the side and watched as the events palyed  
out before me.

Dean held out his hand in a beckoning gesture. When Mason made no movement, Dean sighed and asserted, "Come on, you're a hunter. You know the drill."

After a moment, Mason held out his arm reluctantly and Dean grabbed a hold of his wrist tightly and poured a small amount of holy water onto the back of his hand. The water ran over his tan skin and dribbled to the ground, creating a dark stain on the  
muticolored carpet. Mason didn't show any sign of pain. When Dean stopped the outpour of water, he capped the flask and tossed it onto the bed. He then brought up the knife and held it out away from him and looked Mason in the eyes, gauging the reaction  
he saw there. Mason's body tensed, but his face held no emotion as Dean ran the knife across the back of Mason's forearm, leaving nothing but a shallow red line.

"We good?" Mason asked apprehensively when Sam made no move to remove his hand from his shoulder and Dean kept his intimidating stance within the personal space of the shorter hunter. When I realized that this pissing contest wasn't going to end anytime  
soon, I sighed and pushed my way through the the three men and walked over to the tissue dispenser imbedded in the counter by the sink. I grabbed a handful and made my way over to Mason who accepted them and pressed them hard against his bleeding  
arm, never taking his eyes off Dean. Finally, Dean flitted his gaze toward Sam who then let go of Mason's arm.

"You so much as touch a hair on her head and this knife will be the least of your problems." Dean growled in a tone so low and threatening that I had to give props to Mason for not quaking in his shoes. Dean put the knife he used to cut Mason with back  
into his coat and him and Sam journeyed their way to the door. Before they left Dean turned back around and looked back at me.

"You got your phone on you?" He asked and I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes.

"Yes. Guys I promise you it's fine. Just go already." I said earnestly.

"We'll be right out front if you need anything." Sam said after Dean had already walked out the door.

"Thanks Sam, but it's fine. I promise." I said once again. Sam nodded and followed his brother out the door. I turned back and faced Mason. Now that I could see Mason clearly without the threat of him being stabbed or shot, I noticed particularities about  
him that I had not noticed earlier. There were bags under his deep brown eyes and his hair was more than a little disheveled. His shoulders drooped in a way that showed there was a heavy burden resting on his shoulders.

"Well aren't they...cautious. Don't they know you can take care of yourself?" He asked, finally relaxing into the Mason I had gotten to know over the past few years.

I chuckled to myself before answering. "That's the Winchesters for you; paranoia is just about as much of their makeup as intimidation and greasy diner food."

Mason nodded his head but then stopped suddenly. His eyes got really big and he held out a hand as if to stop me from saying anymore. "Wait. Those were the Winchesters?"

I furrowed my brow. "Yeah. Why?"

A devious smile came over Mason's face. "No way. Stevie is going to explode when when we..."

Mason stopped abruptly, his face falling with sudden solemnity. Stevie was his older sister and was a close friend of mine. Without her showing up and saving my ass when I had been dumb enough to take on a full grown werewolf for my first hunt, I would  
have been long dead. To hear Mason's voice trail off as if something had happened to her...

"Mason, what's going on? Where's Stevie?"

Mason dropped his gaze to his shoes and his shoulders sagged. He let out a sigh and sat down on Sam's bed and I quickly took a seat opposite of him on mine. We both sat there for a moment, not looking into each other's eyes. Then, just as I was about  
to prompt Mason further, he raised his head and looked me square in the face.

"She was kidnapped by your brother."

* * *

 **Hey guys! So I know I haven't updated for awhile but I'm back now! Only...I don't really have an update schedule in mind so I'll probably be updating just whenever I can. I hope this story is still interesting; I still have a lot planned and I have no idea how long this story is gonna be. Hopefully I'll make it to the end, but I would always enjoy some reviews and constructive criticism to really keep me going! So fire away!**


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